4th Annual Bloodhound Reunion
by RichardJ
Summary: Jacky taking care of business in Boston four years after the kidnapping of the Lawson Peabody girls by the crew of the Bloodhound. This is a sequel to Over the Hills and Very Far Away, or can be read as a standalone story.
1. Chapter 1

Mr. L. A. Meyer is acknowledged as the creator of the Bloody Jack story and characters.

This is a sequel to _Over the Hills and (Very) Far Away_ but can be read as a standalone story.

Part 1: Richmond, Virginia; June 1810

"Clarissa! Will you get a move on! The coach has been waiting half an hour!" cries John Randolph.

John resumes pacing around the hall, muttering under his breath. He is so busy venting his frustration at this delay that he nearly collides me.

"Sorry, Miss Alden … er … Ruth", he says

Like John, I've been waiting for Clarissa to come down so the three of us can set off for Boston. However, unlike John, I've sat quietly reading a book of poetry while I wait. Years of schooling at the Lawson Peabody School for Young Girls has taught me the art of patience. And where Clarissa is involved, patience is needed in abundance. I can't understand why, after over a year of marriage to Clarissa, John hasn't learned this simple fact.

Finally there is the sound of dainty footsteps coming down the stairs. Clarissa appears dressed in her finest travelling clothes and not a hair out of place.

"Here ah am, husband," says Clarissa as though she doesn't have a care in the world.

Why she never refers to John by his name is one of those secrets only Clarissa and I share. There are other shared secrets, including the one that is making Clarissa nervous about this trip to Boston. Not that Clarissa shows it. But I know Clarissa's immaculate attire and deportment are a mask for the very frightened young woman beneath. It took me several days to persuade Clarissa to accept the invitation to the Fourth Annual Bloodhound Reunion, to be followed a few days later by Amy Trevelyne and Ezra Pickering's wedding. If she didn't go, I wouldn't be able to either. In the end it was John's decision we should attend. As a politician of growing renown, John isn't going to miss the opportunity to socialise with the President of the United States.

Finally we set off. As we travel, I remember how the Bloodhound Reunion started as a schoolgirl lark, to commemorate the escape of the 32 girls kidnapped by slavers from the shores of Boston in the spring of 1806. The Bloodhound Girls, as we were often referred to in awe by the younger schoolgirls, always look after their own.

At the first reunion all but two of the Bloodhound Girls were still at school, either as students or, like Annie and Sylvie, working as maids. Jacky wasn't there, of course. She was in prison in London, about to be transported as a convict to Australia. And Katy Deere didn't come either. No-one knew where she was. She was last seen heading west to explore the wilds of Tennessee with her new husband.

The second reunion was a more formal affair. Several girls had already left the school; some, like Dolley, were married and with child. It was a joyous occasion which cemented the bond of friendship that will forever exist between those of us who endured captivity on the slave ship _Bloodhound_. A bond that has lead to a commitment to continue holding these reunions, and to include husbands and beaus in future.

By the time of the third reunion all but four of the Bloodhound students had left the school, although Annie and Sylvie still worked there. Some had moved away and, because of an outbreak of smallpox, were unable to travel to attend. It was a smaller, but equally enjoyable event. I enjoyed the socialising before and after the reunion as much as the reunion itself. So much had happened to our friends that it took days to catch up on all the gossip.

It was at the third reunion that I accepted Clarissa's offer to be her paid companion. It was a lifeline I desperately needed. My father had unwisely invested heavily in some venture that had gone horribly wrong, and the money for my dowry had evaporated, virtually overnight.

Not that I had ever thought much about a future husband. Indeed I hadn't thought much about boys or men in that way at all. But without a dowry, I could not attract a husband socially acceptable to the snobbish standards of my mother's parents. And without their approval, the inheritance which might ultimately rescue the fortunes of my parents would go elsewhere. So I was trapped. Finding work was the only practical option, and my skill with a needle and thread seemed my only way out. So the offer from my dear friend Clarissa was heaven sent.

That was a year ago, and I have never regretted my choice, even though handling Clarissa's mood swings would try the patience of a saint. My initial fear that I would feel awkward with a newly married couple proved unfounded. John has always been friendly towards me, if a little formal, and approves of the copious amount of time Clarissa and I spend together.

Now the three of us are journeying north to Boston for the fourth reunion. Thanks to the sterling efforts of Amy, and the fact that none of the girls want to miss her wedding a few days later, this year's reunion looks as though it may have an almost full attendance. Amy says Jacky has now returned to Boston, and only Katy hasn't confirmed she can come. How Amy managed to track Katy down is a tale I want to hear direct from Amy's lips, although I strongly suspect Ezra played a part in the search.

"Are we stopping at my parents' plantation on the way?" asks Clarissa.

"Do you want to? I thought we might stop on the return trip, instead," replies John.

I know Clarissa doesn't really want to see her parents. Not after the huge row that erupted last time they met. This is a delaying tactic by Clarissa in the hope something will crop up to give her a legitimate excuse to stay in Richmond. While I understand Clarissa's fear, hiding from it will solve nothing. Perhaps sharing the secret with someone more worldly like Jacky, might help. Besides, if Clarissa stays in Richmond, then I will have to as well. I am only too well aware of my current station in life, and as much as I want to go to the reunion, Clarissa is my employer.

"We would have difficulty making Fredericksburg by nightfall if we stop," adds John before Clarissa replies.

Clarissa looks at me for support, but sees none on offer. I don't doubt Clarissa will have strong words with me next time we are alone. For now, Clarissa gives in and weakly replies "No. We can stop on the way back, as you suggest".

Meanwhile others are busy preparing for the reunion. None more so than the hosts. Colonel and Mrs. Trevelyne are experienced hands at organising social events. However experience doesn't make the work any less, as the servants at Dovecote can attest. Nor is it protection against the fickle weather. When the rising wind threatens to blow the marquee down, Randall Trevelyne soon realises he needs help.

"Jacky. We need help to save the marquee. That useless fool who set it up hasn't attached enough ropes."


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2: Dovecote, Quincy, Massachusetts

I start to rise from my chair to go to Randall's aid.

"No you don't, Jacky. You're a guest. … Randall! Go fetch some of the servants. You are not going to take Jacky away from me until she has finished her story," says Amy Trevelyne.

This is a side of Amy I haven't seen before. Firm and in control. Not like before, when she would have phrased such a statement as a pleading request. Randall doesn't argue and runs off to gather some of the plentiful servants busy doing various other tasks.

"Now … you were telling me all about Jacinta … I thought you said her name was Jacquelina?" says Amy, picking up her pen and paper again.

"Her full name is Jacinta Raquel Maria Luisa Cortés de la Viña y Fernandez, but all her friends call her Jacquelina."

I repeat her full name and spell some of the words to make sure Amy has it right. I'd hate for Amy to write a book and misspell the name of one of Spain's newest heroines. Satisfied Amy has spelt it right, I resume my recollection of Jacquelina.

"Now, where was I … Ah yes … Talavera. Well that was a battle and a half. For two days the French attacked the British and Spanish armies. Jacquelina and her guerrilla band, along with other partisans, held the town of Talavera against several flanking attacks. In the end it was the French who retreated and fled towards Madrid.

"It was hailed as a great victory for the combined British and Spanish armies, but the casualties were high. And the fruits of victory were short lived. Napoleon sent tens of thousands of fresh troops to Spain and the British and Spanish armies were outnumbered. The Spanish retreated south to defend Seville and the British west to defend Lisbon. Jacquelina and her band returned to the mountains to the north of Talavera.

I was only in Spain for a few weeks after Talavera, but even in that short time Jacquelina's band had built up a fearsome reputation. They had rescued Spanish prisoners from under the noses of the French. Several French supply columns had been raided, and there was an unconfirmed report that they had briefly entered Madrid itself and burnt down the headquarters of the secret police. Her band was reputed to number over a hundred when I left Spain."

"And what has become of her since?"

"I've no certain news. I received a letter from her in March just before I left England. For obvious reasons she didn't say where she was or give too much detail, but she is well. Her commitment to fight until the French are driven out of Spain is as strong as ever. She said the French have posted a reward of 50,000 reales for her capture.

"Don't you worry about her safety?"

"Yes, all the time. But Jacquelina doesn't do things in half measures and I've learned to accept that. Since agreeing to marry Richard Allen she at least doesn't risk her life unnecessarily. But it will be a long war and the risks she still takes are dangerous. Whether she'll live long enough to walk down the aisle remains to be seen. She is one of the handful of guerrilla leaders who have proved capable officers in the cat-and-mouse war the partisans fight against the French, and many other bands are uniting under her command. But the French army is enormous and since General Cuesta's death, the regular Spanish army is disorganised."

"But not defeated?"

"Oh no. There are still parts of Spain the French haven't been able to capture. Since the fall of Seville, Cádiz is now the temporary home for the Spanish government. And even in captured territory, there are the guerrilla bands like Jacquelina's who roam freely wherever the French are not. And despite the size of their army, the French don't have enough soldiers to garrison every town and city. But such tactics alone won't drive the French out of Spain."

"And what of Lord Allen?"

Before I can answer we are joined on the porch by Rebecca Adams and her cousin, Harry Adams. Like me, they are staying at Dovecote until after Amy's wedding. Rebecca and I are to be Amy's bridesmaids. I still can't get over how much Rebecca has grown since I last saw her. She's filled out in all the right directions and clearly Harry can't take his eyes off her. The mischievous ham actor I remember has matured into … um … a taller mischievous ham actor.

"Are your rooms all right?" asks Amy.

"Oh, yes," replies Rebecca. "Mine is beautiful. I haven't unpacked yet because I've been admiring the view from my window."

A sly look and a smile passes between Rebecca and Harry and I start to wonder what view Rebecca has been busy admiring. But one doesn't question the word of an Adams, at least not in polite company. In private will be another matter. Harry seems a nice enough man though. He's a few years older than Rebecca and he is obviously in love with her.

A servant appears carrying a tray of lemonades. The four of us help ourselves to a glass and settle into polite conversation. Rebecca is eager to learn of my travels and adventures from my own lips, but for the moment is content to wait. Amy has already told me the contents of the letters I've sent to her over the last year have been shared with most of the Lawson Peabody girls. Apparently even Mistress Pimm showed an interest in my letters. Still, I'm not certain I'm looking forward to my appointment with her the day after tomorrow.

"Is it true Dolley is coming this year? And with her husband?" bubbles Rebecca.

"Yes to both questions, unless something unexpected intervenes," replies Amy. "You can't expect the President of the United States to treat our reunion as more important than affairs of State. Still, I do hope they can make it."

I too would like to meet James Madison. It would then mean I've personally met the King of England, Emperor of France and President of the United States. Not bad for a girl from the streets of London's Cheapside.

Meanwhile, in Washington, all is not going to plan in the Madison household, and Jacky is in danger of being denied her wish.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3: Washington

"I fully understand if you are too busy to attend the reunion, Jemmy," I say. "But at least allow me to go. Rufus or Samuel can be my escort."

"What! Willingly place my young wife in the care of one of my good-for-nothing nephews. Not likely, Dolley! You're six months gone with child!"

I give my husband a frosty look. James Madison may be 20 years my senior and the current President of the United States, but I'm determined he is not going to deny me the chance to meet all my friends in Boston.

"I'm pregnant, not disabled. And Rufus and Samuel aren't all that bad. They don't drink or gamble … well, not much."

"And they don't do much of anything else either. I don't suppose it has occurred to either of them to find a real job."

I can see I'm not going to persuade Jemmy to allow one of his nephews to escort me. I will have to try a different approach.

"What keeps you in Washington anyway? You have plenty of assistants, and only yesterday you were saying the Vice-President should shoulder more of the workload."

"I know. But this war between England and France is interfering with American trade and I need to do something. The French ambassador wants the United States to enter the war on the side of France. He claims the war is almost won, and American help in the final defeat of Spain and England would find France very generous in the distribution of Spanish territories in America. West Florida and Texas could well become part of the United States."

"So you feel you must sit here and decide what to do. What do your political allies say?"

"They are divided. Some favour a war against England; others do not. If the French ambassador is right, then the United States stands to gain a lot of territory for very little risk or effort."

"But if he is wrong, then America gets dragged into a long and bloody war."

"Exactly. If only I knew the true situation on the Iberian peninsular."

"Ah-ha! Then come to Boston! One of those attending has only recently returned to Boston after nearly a year in Spain and Portugal. And you've met Lissette and her husband, Louis, last year. He's a Québécois and has contacts in high circles of the French government. Between them should be able to tell you what is really happening."

"Excellent. I can't wait to meet these two men. Pack your bags, we're leaving this afternoon."

"My bags are already packed. We were due to leave yesterday, remember? Oh … Jacky is a … er."

"Is what?"

"Oh. Nothing. Never mind. It doesn't matter."

New Bedford, Massachusetts

"I really don't see why you need to attend this reunion, Elspeth," grumbles Wilbur Parkinson. "It's not as though you've seen any of them since last year."

"Which is entirely due to your refusal to admit any of my friends to your house, or allow me to visit theirs. I have kept my side of our bargain these last twelve months, now you keep yours," I reply, feigning courage I don't really have.

"Don't take that tone of voice with me, girl. Remember your place in this household. I will honour my promise ... or not ... as I choose."

I stand quietly as he paces about. I try to work out what really is my place in this household. To the outside world he presents me as his wife. My parents believe so, and took Wilbur's side when I tried to run away six months ago. I'll not try doing that again. But he and I know the ring I wear and the worthless piece of paper called a marriage certificate are all a sham. He already had a wife when we walked up the aisle, although I didn't know it at the time.

I thought I was marrying a successful businessman. That's what my parents still believe. Instead I've fallen victim to a swindler and a cheat. Could I expose him? Not likely … he's knows how to put on the charm and tell convincing lies. He's made it clear he will drag me down with him as an accomplice if he's arrested. And I've nothing of my own. I'm dependent on the meagre allowance he gives me for everything. So what is my position in his house? Mistress? Servant? Slave?

I stand patiently, back against the wall, as I know he expects me to when he is thinking. Plotting, more likely.

"You say all the girls and their husbands will be there?" he says suddenly.

"Yes. As far as I'm aware."

"Including the girl who owns a shipping line?"

"Jacky? Yes. Amy wrote to say she was back in Boston and looking forward to the reunion. Why?"

"None of your business. We shall both go. Pack your things."

My heart sinks at the thought of having Wilbur attend. I had hoped he'd allow me to go alone. A brief chance to be free of his clutches. He knows perfectly well I would return to him afterwards, even though I hate this life. What choice do I have. He has enough fake evidence to have me arrested at any time. Even if I escape a jail sentence, my reputation would be ruined.

Meekly I go to my room and place my two good sets of clothes in my travelling bag. I just hope those who attended last year won't remember they are the same dresses I wore then.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4: Boston

Although my appointment with Mistress Pimm isn't until 10 o'clock, I make a point of arriving at the Lawson Peabody School shortly after the main breakfast. I go around the side of the school and knock on the kitchen door. Peg answers and I'm invited to join Annie and Sylvie while they eat their breakfast. I've seen the three of them several times since my return to Boston, but this is the first time I've accepted their invitation to visit them at the school.

"It all looks just the same as when I was last here," I say as I polish off a pancake.

"And so it should! The school was only rebuilt a few years ago," says Peg.

I hide a blush when I think of the reason for the rebuilding, and my part in the events that made it necessary. Annie senses my discomfort.

"No one here blames you for what happened, Jacky. I'll take you on a tour of the school as soon as lessons start."

Many memories are stirred as we wander the corridors and I thoroughly enjoy the tour. I remember that I had been happy here … for the most part. But those memories are in the past and I realise I cannot turn the clock back.

We are walking towards the kitchen when a young girl comes round the corner and collides with me. She can't be more than thirteen. Was I ever that young?

"Look where you're going! Oh! Sorry, … er … Miss. Cooo! Are you the one they call Blondie Jack. One of the Bloodhound Girls my cousin Clarissa saved from the pirates?"

I thought I recognised a family resemblance when we collided.

"Is that the story Clarissa told you?" I ask. "What's your name?"

"Samantha Howe, Miss. It's not exactly what she said. She doesn't talk much about what happened on the _Bloodhound_. But my brother George says it's true and Clarissa is just being modest."

Modest and Clarissa are not two words I ever expected to hear in the same sentence. But I don't have time to debate the point with this girl.

"Your brother George doesn't know as much as he thinks," is all I say as Annie and I leave the girl watching us with a mixture of awe and the Virginian Howe arrogance.

The moment of truth arrives as I stand outside Mistress Pimm's office. The school is exactly as I remember it, although the girls seem so much younger. From what I've seen there are many more of them than when I was last here. The school must be doing well.

Sylvie knocks on the door and escorts me into Mistress Pimm's office. I walk towards her desk using my best Lawson Peabody deportment. To my surprise she stands up and greets me like a long lost friend.

"It is so good to see you, Jacky. We had all been so worried about you these last three years. I can't begin to tell you how relieved we all were to hear of your safe return."

I'm a bit nonplussed by this reception. She addressed me by my first name! I had expected a lecture on my behaviour, and line by line criticism of the grammar in my letters. But no. Mistress Pimm dismisses Sylvie and guides me to the leather chairs she uses for guests.

"Am I correct in thinking that your troubles with authority are now at an end?" she begins.

"Yes. I believe so. The conviction that had me transported to Australia has been quashed and the King of England has granted me a full and unconditional pardon for all crimes in recognition of my services to England in Spain. I have even had my rank of lieutenant formally recognised by the navy."

"And your young man?"

"Jaimy. He's been pardoned as well but must serve out his time in the navy. He's a commander now, with prospects of making a full captain within the year."

"So he won't be at the reunion?"

"No. Unfortunately not. He sailed from England just before I left for Boston. As far as I know, he's somewhere in the Indian Ocean at the moment."

"And I hear you are quite a wealthy young lady now. Your shipping business seems to have prospered."

"Yes. But more thanks to John Higgins and Ezra Pickering managing my affairs while I've been … er … otherwise engaged."

We talk for a while exchanging news and I relate a few of my adventures in Spain. But while we are talking, I sense there is something Mistress Pimm wants to ask me, but is holding back for some reason.

"Do you remember Helen Bailey? Helen Cartwright as she is now."

"Yes. She wasn't one of my closest friends, but I remember her fondly."

I recall Helen was in Clarissa's division on the _Bloodhound_. Strange how I still group my school friends in that way.

"There is something troubling her, but neither I nor her parents can find out what. I know she respects you, even if you weren't close friends. She'll be at the reunion. Do you think you could make a point of talking to her and see if she needs help?"

"Certainly. Although I don't know if anything I can say to her will make a difference."


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5: Dovecote

It's only a few hours before the reunion starts. We couldn't have wished for better weather and the marquee is looking splendid. As house guests, Rebecca and I are roped into helping Amy and her parents make the final adjustments to the place settings. The three large tables are arranged so that the girls of each division on the _Bloodhound_ are sat together on the same table.

Because some of us are without husbands or beaus, there is a certain amount of rearranging seats to get the right balance. Amy and Ezra are joining my Division Three table. Last year Amy was unanimously elected an honorary member of the Bloodhound Girls in recognition of her book about our capture and escape. Our 33rd member.

The three division leaders, Clarissa, Dolley and myself, are sat at the head of each table. I look to see who is sat either side of me. I notice the seating is arranged so each couple are sat side by side rather than facing each other. I vaguely recall one of Mistress Pimm's lectures covered this subject, but I can't remember the details.

Sat on my right will be Amy and Ezra; on my left Sally Anderson and her fiancé. Colonel Trevelyne is in a heated debate with an army officer I don't recognise about who is to sit near the President. As Dolley will be at the head of the table, with her husband to her right, there are only four or five other places close enough to the President for a dinner table conversation. Those places will be in high demand and I don't doubt the unsuccessful candidates will feel snubbed. But there will be plenty of opportunity to talk later.

My thoughts are interrupted by a maid scurrying across the lawn.

"Excuse me, Miss" says the young maid to Amy. "There's a woman at the kitchen door asking to see you. Barnes is standing guard over her."

"Standing guard?"

"Yes, Miss. Barnes reckons she looks a bit shifty."

I follow Amy to the kitchen. There, standing near the table is a woman I recognise instantly.

"Katy!" I cry. "You made it! Welcome!" echoes Amy.

Barnes seems a bit put out at being proven wrong in his assessment of our visitor. From the dust and dirt on her clothes, Katy has obviously travelled far and hard. Strapped on her back is a large deerskin pack.

"Have you anywhere to stay?" asks Amy.

"No, Miss. Figured you might let me sleep in the stables with my horse," replies Katy.

"Nonsense! You shall have a guest room. Come with me. Barnes will carry your belongings."

"This ain't my belongings, Miss. It's my baby," says Katy unhitching the pack from her back.

Amy and I stand dumbfounded as Katy opens a flap on the pack to reveal a sleeping baby.

"Hope you don't mind me bringin' him, Miss. He ain't weaned yet and I got no one to leave him with. His pa is still out west in Tennessee. Can't travel with him until this'un can learn when to keep quiet. Can't catch game or hide from bad folk with a baby squawking at all the wrong times."

"Oh he's gorgeous," coos Amy. "What's his name? How old is he?"

"Nathaniel. He's nearly four months old."

"And the two of you have travelled alone all the way from your farm to be here?" asks Amy

"Weren't alone the whole way, Miss. Had the company of a fur trapper for most of the journey. He wanted to go to New York, so we parted company a couple of days ago."

As much as I'd like to hear more of Katy's news, I am forced to wait. A footman comes over to tell me Colonel Trevelyne wants to see me. I make my apologies and leave Katy in Amy's care.

I find Colonel Trevelyne standing at the window in his study, deep in thought. The footman knocks on the door and announces me. The footman doesn't wait for a response and returns to whatever he was doing before. I enter the room, but Colonel Trevelyne doesn't seem to notice me. I cough politely and he jerks awake.

"Sorry. I was trying to work out how to tell you this, but there doesn't seem to be an easy way. Please sit down. I'm afraid I've some rather disturbing news."

I do as he asks and my mind runs through the numerous possible causes of his obvious concern. I just hope he tells me what it is without a lot of beating around the bush.

"What is it, Colonel Trevelyne? Is it bad news?"

"I don't know if I'd call it bad. Just … um … disturbing. I had no idea … ah ..."

He obviously is going to beat around the bush.

"Best tell me straight, then," I interrupt, before he can "um" and "ah" for another half hour.

"James Madison, … our President … of the United States, I mean. He has asked to see you tomorrow morning to discuss your recent experiences on the Iberian peninsular. I had no idea you are so well connected."

"Nor I. But why?"

"I've no idea. He's also asked to see Lissette and her husband as well at the same time."

I briefly saw Lissette and Louis in Quincy yesterday. We exchanged a quick greeting and Lissette introduced me to Louis. She and Louis were going to a pre-reunion soiree arranged by Clarissa for the Division One girls. At first I berated myself for not organising something similar for the Division Three girls, but soon realised we didn't need one. Apart from Katy I have spent time with all the girls in my Division over the last few days, and they see each other regularly.

"Well, we can worry about the meeting tomorrow. If you'll excuse me, I must get changed for the reunion. Our guests will be arriving soon."


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6: Cádiz, Spain

The French siege of Cádiz is now in its third week and father tells me the French have brought in reinforcements. However they still lack enough boats to make a full scale attack across the inlet dividing the mainland from the narrow peninsular on which Cádiz stands. Until they do we can hold out. With the bridges over the marshland destroyed, the single road into Cadiz is impassable to a large army. Our supplies arrive regularly by sea, so we have only the occasional small raid and the periodic cannon fire at extreme range to contend with.

Not that the defenders of Cádiz have been idle. Even our local militia, the Distinguished Volunteers of Cádiz, have seen action. Although for most it was at some cost. Many of the opulent uniforms they wear have been dirtied in the skirmishes, and some uniforms will never be quite the same again.

It was during one of the recent skirmishes that one of the Volunteers, my former music teacher, recovered a two month-old newspaper from a wounded French officer. Within a few days the newspaper had found its way to my father, and now to me. I read one of the articles with some concern.

… _The Prefect of Talavera reports that recent operations by the French army in the nearby mountains have cleared the area of bandits. All the bandits were killed or captured. The captured bandits will be tried and executed in Medina del Campo within the week. The Prefect refused to give details about the fate of the bandit leader, Jacinta Cortés, but simply said she would be causing no further trouble._

I put down the paper and wonder what I can do. I'd only met Jacquelina once, shortly after the battle of Talavera last July, but know my husband Rodrigo thinks highly of her. But even if I could get a message to him, he could do nothing. And if the article is true, it may all be too late.

"What troubles you, Maria Isabela?", asks my father.

"This newspaper has news of a friend of Rodrigo. Jacquelina; the partisan leader I told you about. It seems she may have been killed by the French."

I show my father, Sir Archibald Robertson, the article.

"Hmm … You can't believe everything the French say. But I know the French have been busy trying to consolidate their hold on central Spain. It could be true. I'm sorry. Did you know her?"

"I only met her the once. She is the sort of leader Spain needs at the moment. Not these puffed up grandees who make heroic speeches from the comfort of their clubs, and then claim exemption from taxes and military service. Without money and fighting men, we can never push the French out of Spain."

"My, my. You are becoming quite the patriot. I presume this is Rodrigo's influence. Have you heard from him recently?"

"Not since the French started the siege here. The last I heard his regiment was moving east to help defend Valencia. But that was nearly two months ago."

"We could do with his cavalry here. Once the French muster enough boats they can attack anywhere along the peninsular. We can't garrison every landing place, so a fast moving company of cavalry would be most useful."

"It seems neither of us can do much to help. At least I can write to Jacky and tell her about Jacquelina. From what Rodrigo has told me she and Jacquelina were close friends. Jacky's last letter said she was going to Boston now Jaimy had returned to sea. I think I have an address for her somewhere."

"Jaimy? As in my former assistant James Fletcher? The one who was supposed to escort you to my brother's estate near Madrid and instead left you in the hands of a man you barely knew and that crazy old general."

"Yes. And might I remind you that Rodrigo is now my husband, and the crazy old general, as you call him, was my great-uncle who has given his life for the Spanish cause."

"Well, that's as may be. I suppose it turned out alright in the end. You'd best get your letter written. I'll see if I can find a ship able to deliver it."

In a nameless tavern in a small out-of-the-way village somewhere in Castile two men are talking.

"She was betrayed, I say. One of her own men sold her out."

"Fifty thousand reales is a lot of money. And men's loyalty can be bought with that kind of money."

"Such a man would only benefit if the French pay the reward."

"Yes, but the French paid the reward … er … so I heard. … Aghh!"

"And only if he lives long enough to spend it. Die, traitor! ... Viva Jacquelina!"

The taller man leaves the tavern. The smaller man lies slumped across the table, never to move again. The innkeeper doesn't even look up.

Once clear of the village Lord Richard Allen discards his disguise. The farmhand once more becomes the travelling merchant as he rides south to find out what happened to his beloved Jacquelina two months ago. Finding the traitor was easy. The man was careful enough not to collect the reward immediately. But then he grew impatient and despite his efforts at secrecy, failed to pass Richard Allen's well prepared watch on the Prefect's office. Then a two day ride to this inn and justice delivered.


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7: Dovecote

My head is starting to spin at all the introductions. With Julia's arrival in the company of her handsome escort, Amy confirms all 33 of the Bloodhound Girls are now in attendance. I look around the room at the groups of guests. As expected the guests have formed into groups with those of similar backgrounds. I spend a few moments taking in the spectacle before me.

The girls' dresses are all colours of the rainbow. Many are in the latest Empire style of dress, although more than a few still favour the more traditional styles. By contrast, my dress is pure Spanish flamenco, a parting gift from Jacquelina when I last saw her. The deep red colour of my dress raised a comment or two from Clarissa and her friends, but I felt her comments were more in jest that the malicious tongue I had once feared.

As if trying to out-do me in originality of dress Katy is dressed in a long brightly adorned deerskin outfit that makes her look like an Indian princess. Annie, Sylvie, Davy and Henry are standing with her and sharing a joke. I've seen Davy and Henry in action before, and I just hope their jokes don't get too bawdy.

The group next to them are all in the legal profession, Amy and Ezra, John Bryant and his new wife Priscilla, and George somebody-or-other who is Caroline Thwackham's escort. Next to them are the bankers, then a group who are engineers and academics, then merchants, a couple of mixed groups and finally, nearest the drinks, the politicians.

Although this is a reunion for us girls, I notice many of the men have used the opportunity to conduct business. I wonder how many deals and alliances will be arranged this evening. Having no escort and not belonging to any one particular social group I start to work the crowd.

I decide to start with Annie, Sylvie and Katy's group. As I near I hear the tail end of one of Davy's yarns. I've heard this one before, as I'm sure Annie has as well … many, many times. Fortunately it is one suitable for mixed company. Katy seems ill at ease and at the end of Davy's story I take her aside.

"This all must seem strange to you after life on the frontier," I say.

"Takes a bit of getting used to. All these people in such a small space. We have a get-together from time to time even in the wilds. But they are always out in the open … plenty of space. The Indians love a celebration and the frontiersmen know how to let their hair down and party."

After spending so much time on board ships I thought this marquee was massive and there was plenty of space. But Katy obviously has a different perspective.

"And Nathaniel is being looked after?" I ask.

"Yes. One of Miss Amy's maids is looking after him. I'll need to go and give him his feed in a few hours or he'll scream the place down. He's got a fine pair of lungs and a good appetite."

"And what will you do after the reunion?" I ask.

"Miss Amy has insisted I stay here until after her wedding. After that I shall see if I can find work for a few months. My farm needs too much work for me to manage on my own and it will be winter before Lightfoot returns from Tennessee."

"Why didn't he stay and look after you?"

"That's not his way. He's only happy out on the frontier away from the towns and cities. I knew what he was like before I married him, so I ain't complaining. He'll come and find me when he's ready. In the meantime I've got Nathaniel for company."

I don't know whether to admire Katy or feel sorry for her. Underneath it all I see a strong and independent woman, much like myself. But caring for a young child on your own is no small task. Not one I feel equal to doing.

Annie comes over and talks to Katy. I drift away to one of the other groups. I had promised Mistress Pimm I would have a word with Helen. Now doesn't seem the time, but I go over to the group she is with to see if I can glean any information that might help.

She and her husband Tom Cartwright are with the group of engineers and academics, although at the moment I'm don't know which of those two professions fits Tom's occupation. Dorothea, Barbara, Hepzibah and Beatrice complete the make up the Bloodhound Girls in this group. Dorothea has come alone. She doesn't seem the slightest bit concerned about the scandal that had for months linked her name to our former science teacher, Mr. Sackett. I know there are a few in this room who still secretly believe in there being no smoke without fire, but the Bloodhound Girls stick by their own, and the ugly rumours were eventually quashed.

I watch the body language between Tom and Helen. Nothing amiss there. A married couple devoted to each other. Not overly affectionate … at least in public, but not standoffish either. The subtle touch on the other's arm, and the occasional smile and glance into each others eyes tells me whatever is troubling Helen it is not any ill treatment by her husband.

But I can sense there is something troubling Helen. Not simply because Mistress Pimm told me, but I detect the occasional haunted look in her eyes when she is not concentrating. I shall speak to her in private when I get the opportunity, but whether I can help her is another matter.

I learn Tom is an engineer working on a new type of boat. One powered by steam. My interest in him increases and more than ever I'm determined to see more of the pair of them over the next few days.

"Are you staying for Ezra and Amy's wedding?" I ask each in turn.

I pleased to hear that Tom and Helen will be staying in Quincy until after the wedding, so I should get the chance to talk to Helen and find out more about Tom's work before we all go our separate ways.

Before I can join another group the master of ceremonies announces that dinner is served. We all move to our allotted tables and I take my place at the head of the Division Three table. Amy and Ezra join me on my right, but to my surprise it is not Sally and her fiancé sat on my left but Elspeth and her husband, Wilbur Parkinson.

Amy looks just as surprised as I do at this change of places. Neither she nor I had made the change, feeling Elspeth would be more comfortable in the company of Rebecca and Frances further down the table. Sure enough, where we had originally allocated seats for Elspeth and Wilbur are sat Sally and her fiancé. But they seem happy enough where they are and are busy chatting to those around them. I think nothing more of it.


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8

Ezra politely introduces himself and Amy to Wilbur Parkinson, who doesn't reciprocate by formally introducing Elspeth to Ezra. I look at Elspeth and see fear in her eyes. Her body language, and that of Wilbur, are in direct contrast to what I observed earlier between Helen and Tom. I can sense there is something wrong and that theirs is not a happy marriage.

Ignoring Wilbur's snub, I greet Elspeth warmly. Elspeth smiles weakly and manages a brief conversation before lapsing into silence as Wilbur diverts the conversation onto another topic. A short while later Elspeth turns and starts talking to Rose, who is sat on her left. My suspicions are increased when Wilbur starts trying to monopolise Ezra and my conversation. He even tries to shut Amy out of what soon becomes a business discussion. But the new Amy is made of sterner stuff and manages to hold up her end of the discussion even if she knows very little about financial investments. I must confess I am struggling to follow what Wilbur is talking about.

"If you are quick enough and invest before the rush, you stand to make a good deal of money. Fifty thousand dollars clear profit at least. All for four or five months work for one of your ships," gushes Wilbur.

Ezra probes with a few questions but doesn't find any fault in Wilbur's proposal. There is an element of danger. Transporting goods through pirate infested waters off the coast of Africa is not for the faint hearted, but well within the capabilities of the crew of the _Lorelei Lee_. I am almost be tempted to go myself, but I know there is important business I must attend to while I'm here in Boston.

"Let me get this clear in my mind. You have contacts with a warehouse full of goods here in America with a buyer waiting in North Africa. But your contacts can't simply ship the goods themselves as they having certain financial difficulties."

"That's right. Their last shipment sank in a storm and they are now unable to pay their debts. They want to sell their remaining goods quickly and are prepared to sell at a bargain price."

"But why not sell the goods locally?" I ask, still a little unclear of what Wilbur is offering.

"The goods will fetch much more in Africa where there is a contracted buyer willing to pay a guaranteed price."

No Arab merchant I've met ever agrees to pay a guaranteed price for unseen goods. Without exception the merchant will complain the goods are faulty or poor quality and start renegotiating the price once the goods arrive. It is Elspeth's sudden worried look in my direction that confirms my suspicion this is a scam.

"Well, come by our offices the day after tomorrow and we shall discuss it some more," I say firmly ending the conversation as politely as I can.

Amy and Ezra take my meaning at once and Amy asks Elspeth, who has now finished her conversation with Rose, to tell us about New Bedford. But Wilbur is not ready to let the former discussion drop.

"Alas another two days will see the opportunity gone," he purrs in his oily salesman pitch. "I strongly recommend you act quickly; tonight even."

The cheek of the man. Trying to scam a scammer. But I don't want to cause a fuss and spoil the reunion.

"If a decision must be made urgently, then the answer is no," says Ezra, coming to my rescue. Perhaps Ezra could tell I'd like to show this man how the Chinese deal with cheats and fraudsters. Not a pleasant sight.

"Very well. I will call on your offices in two days should the offer still be open," he says with as much good grace as he can muster.

Of course the offer will still be open! The silly man still thinks he's in with a chance. What worries me more is how Elspeth became involved with this rogue. Another of my school friends I need to talk with in private.

We are saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of the first course. The conversation moves on to lighter things and even the taciturn Elspeth manages to tell us something about life in New Bedford. Wilbur recovers from his earlier rebuff and is more talkative, particularly if the subject is himself.

I look down the table at the Division Three girls while we wait for the empty plates to be removed. All of them seem to be enjoying the evening. Even Elspeth has relaxed somewhat now Wilbur has stopped talking business. Facing me at the foot of the table sits Katy, with Annie and Sylvie on either side. She had asked to be placed there as she expected to be called away to feed Nathaniel at any time, and she would cause less disturbance if she sat there.

Apart from Katy, Rose and I, all the girls at this table have partners, be it husband, fiancé, or a good friend. Rebecca and Tom are up to something, and the source of great mirth down their end of the table. Davy, who is sat next to Rebecca, is involved as well.

"I hope you are behaving yourself Mr. Jones," I call light-heartedly down the length of the table.

"But of course, skipper," comes the cheeky reply. "Tom, Henry and I are trying to persuade Miss Adams to honour her promise while we wait for the next course."

"Which is …?" asks Hyacinth, getting in on the frivolity.

"To dance on the table," says Tom.

I dare not think how Rebecca had come to make such a promise, but I know only too well she would need only a little encouragement to be up on the table and dancing away.

"Perhaps after we've finished our meal," suggests Amy. "Then Jacky can get up as well and show us all a true flamenco."

"Amy! I thought you were my friend!" I cry in a hushed voice.

But it is no good. Amy's suggestion meets with instant approval. Not only from those at my table, but some of those on Dolley's as well. Including a cheer from none other than the President of the United States. Well if it is a command performance, how can I refuse.

From Rebecca and Tom's reaction at the other end of the table, it dawns on me that I've been set up. Amy and Rebecca must have been planning this earlier on. Grrr! Just you two wait.


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9

After the main course comes the speeches. As current President of the Sisterhood of Bloodhound Girls, Martha makes a short speech welcoming everybody and thanking our hosts. Then she reads the list of marriages and engagements, followed by a list of births since the last reunion. Six marriages and seven engagements in the last year. Only two births this year though, Katy's Nathaniel and Minerva's Sarah-Anne, but there will likely be more this next year. Annie and Dolley are both well advanced with their pregnancies and unless Christina has put on a lot of weight since I last saw her, I suspect she is pregnant as well.

Each announcement is greeted with a cheer and a toast to the lucky couple. With the marriages of previous years, well over half of the Bloodhound Girls are married or engaged, and Dolley, Annie, Sylvie, Minerva, Katy and Judith are now mothers. So much has changed in the last four years.

To conclude the speeches, Constance offers a short heartfelt prayer, on conclusion of which the dessert is served. As Constance walks back to her seat she stops briefly to talk with me.

"Hello, Jacky. I'm pleased you are here this year. We have all be praying for your salvation these last three years," says Constance is her 'nearer to God than thou' tone she somehow manages to convey without thinking.

"And you have been in my prayers too, Constance. As have all the Bloodhound Girls," I reply.

"You? Praying? That must be a first, Jacky."

"Oh, but I prayed every day while I was a nun."

"A nun?" splutters Rose, nearly choking on her wine. "This is a story I must hear."

Although one of my letters to Amy had briefly mentioned my time disguised as a novice while I was in Spain, I remember not all the girls have seen my letters. Rose lives with her aunt in Albany, so is not one of those Amy meets very often.

"Yes, I'd like to hear that story as well," adds Constance. Several others echo the request.

So added to the dance I've been persuaded to do on conclusion of the meal, I must now tell a story. It looks like I might be the centre of attention for a while. Well, I do like an enthusiastic audience. I'm enjoying the evening more and more. But I'm careful about how much wine I drink. I remember only too well the disastrous consequences of too much wine at a dinner on these very premises.

When we finish our meal several of the guests start to mingle. I wander down to the other end of the table and talk to Annie and Davy. I notice Katy has left the room and Annie confirms that Nathaniel has woken and demanding a feed. The table has been cleared by the time I return to my seat. Wilbur has moved over to Clarissa's table and seems busy trying to sell his phoney deal to Lissette's and Christina's husbands. I make a note to advise them to be careful when I get the chance. I don't mind Wilbur trying his scam, but I'll not sit idly by when it affects my friends.

Wilbur's seat has been occupied by Dolley who has left her husband talking politics at the other table. I look up and notice John Randolph has taken Dolley's place at the head of the Division Two table.

I have heard bits and pieces of Dolley's life over the last three years, but never from her own lips. The casual conversation we have over the next five minutes leaves me wanting to know more. Amy, ever hungry for news, is eager we should have afternoon tea together tomorrow. Dolley agrees and Rose and Elspeth are invited as well.

We don't get the chance to talk any longer, as the band hired for the dancing is ready to perform. Before they can start Amy makes sure Rebecca and I perform the promised dance upon the table. Everyone gathers round and the band strikes up a tolerable flamenco tune. Up on the table I go, and Rebecca does likewise at the other end. It doesn't take me long to realise that Rebecca has been practising and I begin to wonder when this little stunt was first planned.

Rebecca and I dance for nearly five minutes and we receive rapturous applause. There are cries for more, but we both feel exhausted after such a rigorous dance so soon after a meal. I feel a little guilty for being so tired after such a short routine, but I'm not the skinny lass I once was, and it's been nearly two years since I last ran up and down the rigging of a ship. I make a mental note to get myself back into better trim. I've had too much good food and socialising, and not enough physical exercise since I left Spain.

The dancing begins in earnest and goes on for some time. I try to find a chance to talk to Helen, but she is too busy dancing and I don't get the opportunity. When the dancing stops for a while to give the band a break, I'm hauled onto the makeshift stage and prompted for my tale about when I was a nun. The showgirl in me responds. I give an animated account of my adventures while travelling through French held territory while in charge of six novices being sent home from their convent.

My story is received with rapturous applause, although I suspect several think I exaggerated more than I did. I expect a caustic remark from Clarissa, but none is forthcoming; nor from Constance, whom I don't doubt has some religious objection to my behaviour.

I feel exhausted by the time the party has wound up. Many of the guests have arranged to stay at Dovecote overnight, and the others are staying in nearby Quincy. A line of carriages take those staying in Quincy away, among them James and Dolley Madison.

Although all the girls say farewell as though we will not see each other for some time, in reality most will be attending Amy's wedding, so we will soon be reunited. Added to which, there are countless morning or afternoon social calls arranged over the next few days. In addition to my meeting tomorrow afternoon with Dolley, Amy, Elspeth and Rose, I've morning tea with Tom and Helen the next day, followed by business meetings with Ezra and, if he dares to turn up, Wilbur Parkinson.

I return to my room and make sure I write down all my meetings over the next few days. I can see I'm in for a busy time until after Amy's wedding. A quick wash and into bed. The lovely hot day has now turned quite muggy, and it feels as if a thunderstorm is in the offing. Indeed, as my head hits the pillow there is a distant rumble of thunder.


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10

It must be about two o'clock in the morning when the storm passes close to Dovecote. It's not a particularly severe storm, but enough to wake me from my sleep. I feel thirsty but suddenly realise the pitcher of water in my room is empty. With all the extra guests tonight, the servants hadn't had time to refill it. That's not a problem; I know my way to the kitchen and I wouldn't dream of summoning a servant at this time of night, even though I know there will be one on duty.

I throw a shawl over my nightdress and head for the kitchen. I find it without any difficulty. Sure enough there is one of the male servants busy in the kitchen preparing something for one of the guests. By the look of the concoction it is a remedy for a hangover. He greets me briefly and once he is satisfied I know my way about the kitchen, resumes his work. I fill my pitcher and don't linger.

On my way back to my room I see someone else in the corridor. A man. At first I think it's a servant as he is dressed in day clothes, but soon realise it isn't. He is staggering around as if he's drunk. I can't recognise who it is from this angle.

"Are you alright, sir?" I ask in a hushed voice, not wishing to disturb the slumber of those in nearby rooms.

"Wha... huh? Where am … am … am … Mmmmm" mutters the man, barely coherent. He ends his short statement by resting his back against the wall and sliding down to the floor.

Now I recognise the man. It's John Randolph; Clarissa's husband. We had spoken briefly earlier in the evening. A prominent up-and-coming politician from Virginia as far as I remember. But what is wrong with him? There's no smell of alcohol. I try splashing some of the water from my pitcher in his face. He just makes a silly smile and looks at me with glazed eyes.

I look around and see he has come from the bedroom nearby. He has left the door open. I can't move him on my own so I go to wake Clarissa. I enter the room and soon realise it isn't John and Clarissa's room. There is only a single bed, and it is empty. What is going on? I quickly look around the room and see something that gives me a clue to what ails John Randolph. I'd seen such things while I was in the far east. I take a closer look and my suspicions are confirmed. Opium!

But that doesn't explain what John Randolph is doing in this room. Who's room is it? I remember Amy saying earlier that all the bedrooms are occupied tonight, so it must belong to someone. I don't have time to search for clues. I must find Clarissa and tell her John is out cold on the corridor floor before someone else finds him.

I then remember seeing Clarissa and John earlier being shown into the large bedroom at the end of the corridor. I just hope I'm right, otherwise I'm going to be waking another guest. I reach the door and decide to peek inside the room before risking knocking on the door, just in case it's the wrong room. I quietly open the window at the end of the corridor and climb out onto the window ledge. It's an easy climb across to the bedroom window, which is fortunately open because of the hot night. I manage to clamber inside the room without making too much noise. I can't make out who is in the bed, but there are two of them. Damn! Wrong room.

I turn to make my way out the way I came when I recognise Clarissa's dress on the chair by the window. Huh? Once more I turn and move closer to the bed. A flash of lightning briefly illuminates the room. It is only momentary but it's enough. Clarissa is here.

I don't have time to observe all the nice proprieties. John could be discovered at any moment.

"Clarissa! Wake up!" I hiss into her ear as discretely as I can.

"Wha... Huh? … Eeeeek! … Mmmmmph!" she responds as I push my hand over her mouth before she can wake the entire household.

"Sssshhhh!" I whisper.

Fortunately Clarissa's cry coincides with a clap of thunder. Anyone hearing her cry might attribute it to surprise caused by the thunder outside.

Ruth, lying beside her, is also wide awake, but sees the need for quiet. The two of them unwrap their arms and sit up.

"Now put some clothes on and come and help me with John. He's passed out in the corridor." I say as I find the oil lamp.

I turn up the wick and a small glow gives us enough light to see. The two of them are decent in a matter of seconds and follow me into the corridor. Fortunately John hasn't been discovered and is still prostrate where I left him. Clarissa runs to his side with genuine concern.

Between the three of us we manage to get John back into the room he came from, and lay him down on the bed. He is lost in a world of his own, but doesn't seem in any immediate danger. Once the effect of the opium wears off he should be alright.

"Clarissa. You must make him stop taking this stuff. I've seen what it does to people. They end up useless and dying a slow and horrible death."

"I know. I'm trying. He doesn't do it as often since we've been married. But large gatherings like tonight … um … he doesn't seem to be able to help himself."

"I know a few Chinese remedies that might help. We'll talk again in the next few days." I say as I edge out of the room, desperately wanting my bed and some sleep.

"Wait Jacky! I suppose my guilty secret is now going to be public knowledge," says Clarissa nervously. "But please … don't say it in front of all the girls until we've gone back to Richmond. I couldn't stand it."

"There is no secret to tell. All the Bloodhound Girls have known your inclinations in that way ever since our time on the _Bloodhound_. And did we not promise never to betray another of our sisterhood? Your secret, such as it is, is safe with me and all the other Bloodhound Girls. Now please can I go and get some sleep."

Five minutes later I'm fast asleep in my bed, completely unaware of the drama unfolding in Quincy.


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11: Quincy

The thunder wakes me in the early hours of the morning. Tom is still fast asleep beside me. It's alright for him; a herd of buffalo charging through our room wouldn't wake him. But I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep until the storm has passed.

I slide out of bed and look out of the window. The rain has stopped and the moon is peeking through the clouds. The storm has moved off to the north and Boston seems to be bearing the brunt of it now. A bright flash of lightning, followed thirty seconds later by a loud clap of thunder confirm the storm is moving slowly away. But only slowly.

It is still oppressively warm. On impulse, I decide to go out for a walk. I don't bother with a coat. My nightdress is adequate cover, both for warmth and decency. I stroll outside and without thinking find myself walking along the low cliffs overlooking the small fishing harbour. I stop and look out across the bay. Even at this time of night there are several fishing boats out on the water. One must have already finished and is heading for the quay below where I stand. I watch it as it slowly makes its way through the waves. My mind starts to wander.

It is times like this, in the peace and solitude, that my worries start to invade my mind. Why do I feel this way. Tom is everything a girl could wish for in a husband. He's kind and considerate. He values my opinion and happily discusses his work with me. The allowance he gives me is ample, even generous given his income. But I don't deserve him. I try my best, but the plain and simple fact is I'm not worthy of him. I've followed my mother's advice in every respect, but I'm not a fit wife for a fine man like Tom.

But what should I do? I don't seem to be able to change the way I am. As God is my witness, I have tried so very hard. But to no avail. I feel so desperately unhappy and I've only myself to blame. I walk closer to the edge of the cliff and peer down. This isn't the first time I've been so unhappy that I've wanted to end it all, but before me is the opportunity. One quick leap and I could give Tom his freedom. Freedom to find a more worthy wife. Freedom!

"Freedom isn't at the bottom of that cliff," comes a voice from behind me.

I hadn't realised I had uttered my last thought aloud. I feel a little resentful that this stranger has interrupted my misery. And to make matters worse it is starting to rain.

"You know nothing of my problem," I retort.

"Nor does anyone, I suspect. Come. Let us shelter in the hut over there while the rain passes. If you are intent on jumping over the cliff, at least do it in the dry."

For no reason I can afterwards remember I follow the stranger into the hut. The door isn't locked and the hut seems to be used for storing old fishing nets and tackle. It has a strong fishy smell that makes me hold my nose.

"So. Do you have a name?" probes the stranger in a commanding tone of voice.

"Helen. Helen Cartwright."

"Well, Helen. You are not the sort of person I had expected to find at this time of night. Your husband must have treated you cruelly for you to be here like this. He ..."

"Oh no! Tom is the most wonderful husband. He has never lifted a hand against me. He would never force himself on me. I'm the bad one. He … wait a minute … How did you know I am married?"

"By your wedding ring. … So he doesn't force himself on you? … But you would like him to once in a while? Perhaps in the privacy of your bedroom? … Hah! I can see by your blush I am right. … But I don't understand why you simply don't tell him."

"Oh! I could never do that! You don't understand. And Tom would never understand how I feel. He didn't have to spend weeks in a slave ship contemplating being sold to a strange man. The prospect of being at a man's beck and call, and being forced to serve him in any way he desires. The relief I felt when we all escaped from the ship."

"Yet this episode you describe doesn't seem to have hindered your decision to marry Tom. From what you say, you have found a soul-mate who shows not all men bend women to their lusts. But I suspect what troubles you is not the horrors of what nearly overcame you, but that deep down inside you find yourself curious at what may have happened."

"Curious? … If it were only that … But alas, there are times when I find the prospect a little … um … thrilling. … See … I'm an unfit wife."

"Nonsense. What woman doesn't have a few secret fantasies from time to time. What man either. I think you will find Tom more supportive of your feelings than you give him credit. Now, where are you staying?"

Without thinking I point to inn where we are staying. Without further ado the stranger links arms with me and walks me back to the inn. The rain briefly returns before we can reach the inn. With only a brief farewell, I'm left at my bedroom door. Do I go inside though? The stranger has gone downstairs, but for all I know may be sitting in the lobby. No, I shall have to grin and bear it. Perhaps I'll be lucky and Tom is still asleep and hasn't noticed I've been gone. I quietly open the door.

"Darling Helen! There you are! I've been so worried. My goodness, you're soaking. Get out of that nightdress before you catch your death of cold," says Tom in a commanding voice normally reserved for his workmen.

This is the first time he has spoken to me in this manner. I respond immediately and drop my wet nightdress on the floor. It is some seconds before I realise what I've done. I've disobeyed my mother's advice and allowed my husband to see me this way. What a wicked girl I am; a disgrace to Boston womanhood.

I briefly try to retrieve some modesty with my hands, but Tom takes hold of them and pulls them aside. I look into his eyes and begin to melt into the depths of his gaze.

"I suppose you wish to punish me for being out alone in the night," I say timidly.

"Punish you? Why would I … Hmmm … Yes. I think that is what you deserve. A good lesson is what you need, and I shall give you one. It will be long and hard."

I give a longing sigh.

"Yes my love, I certainly hope so."


	12. Chapter 12

Part 12: Dovecote

I'm up bright and early despite my interrupted sleep and pleasant dreams of Jaimy. I go down to the kitchen, knowing it is too early for breakfast in the dining room. The servants are up and about, but the Trevelyne's and their guests are still in their rooms. Well, not quite. It seems I'm not the first guest to find their way to the kitchen.

After a cheerful 'good morning' to the kitchen staff I'm handed a plate of bacon and eggs, with the promise of more if I want. I take my plate over to the table and join Ruth. Last night's drama doesn't seem to have affected her appetite.

"Good morning, Ruth," I say politely, so as not to give away our earlier meeting.

"Good morning, Jacky. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you. Although the storm woke me in the night and it took me a while to go back to sleep."

When we have finished our breakfast, Ruth suggest she and I go for a walk in the garden. Last night's storm has passed and the garden smells wonderful as the early morning sun strikes the well watered flowers.

"Thank you for putting Clarissa's mind at ease last night. She has been desperately worried the other girls would find out about her … er … you know what."

"Well, what I said was true. What I don't understand is why her husband doesn't object."

"I didn't understand at first, but it seems John needed a wife to help further his political career. But not one who would expect certain manly duties to be performed. An illness as a child has left him deficient in that department, if you take my meaning. So it is a marriage of convenience, for both of them."

"Is that why he takes the opium?"

"No. Not really. I don't know when it started, but it was before he met Clarissa. She's helped him reduce how much he takes, but large gatherings like last night seem to overwhelm him. It's strange though. If you saw him in the House of Representatives you wouldn't believe he's the same man. All fire and brimstone, not the weak shell of a man you saw last night. Clarissa's with him now, keeping an eye on him."

"Well, he's in good hands then. But what about you?"

"Me? What about me?"

"All the Bloodhound Girls may have known, or at least suspected, Clarissa's tastes in companions. But not you, Ruth? I for one would never have guessed."

"Oh, I prefer men, but I'm not important. Clarissa is a good friend and she looks after me. She even pays me enough so I can send money back to my family. You probably don't know that my father lost all our money in some business venture about 18 months ago. I don't know the exact details but he and his partner gambled on some trade deal to Africa and the goods never arrived."

"You are important, Ruth, and don't you forget it. Clarissa is the fortunate one to have someone like you. Out of curiosity, what was your father's business partner's name?"

"I can't remember. I never met him. They weren't partners for very long. … Um … Wait! Wilbur somebody-or-other … Wilbur Parker, or something like that. Why?"

"Parkinson, perhaps? Wilbur Parkinson?"

"Yes … yes, that's right. Do you know him? Father never heard from him after the deal went sour."

"I'm fairly certain it's the same Wilbur Parkinson I know. I take it you haven't spoken to Elspeth recently?"

"No. We don't mix in the same circles and she keeps to herself between reunions. To be honest, I haven't spoken to her yet this reunion. Why?"

"I can't say more at the moment, but I'll make some enquiries."

Our conversation is interrupted by the sound of a baby crying. We turn to see Katy walking towards us carrying Nathaniel in her arms.

"You wouldn't believe he's just been fed, would you?" she says.

Ruth and I gather round Katy and fuss over Nathaniel. All the attention seems to amuse him and he stops crying. After a while we are joined by Amy and Rebecca. I suddenly remember I have an appointment with the President of the United States in Quincy in two hours time. I make my apologies and go prepare myself.

Quincy

I arrive at the courthouse where the meeting is to take place. Lissette and Louis are there waiting. We exchange greetings and small talk while we wait. I thought I was early, but it seems Lissette arrived much earlier. She was due to meet Helen this morning, but when she arrived at the inn, Helen's husband, Tom, apologised and said Helen was a bit tied up at the moment but would see her later.

There is the usual ebb and flow of people in the courthouse. Suddenly I jump up and run to the person who has just walked in.

"Jacquelina! What are you doing here?" I ask, remembering to keep my voice down in this hall of authority.

"Oh, Jacky! What good luck to find you so quickly. I was going to come looking for you as soon as I've completed some paperwork here. I arrived by boat last night."

"Then please wait for me here. I've a meeting with the President of the United States here in a few minutes. I don't know how long I will be, but if you can wait, I so want to hear your news."

"The President? You are coming up in the world. I always knew there was something special about you. Of course I will wait; what's an hour or two after five weeks of travel."


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13: Quincy

An army officer escorts Lissette, Louis and I into a back room where we find James Madison sat at a large oak table with two other men. Two soldiers are standing guard at the door and a clerk is sat to one side, presumably to make notes of our discussion. The men stand as we enter.

"Thank you for coming at such short notice," says the President politely. "These gentlemen are Mr. William Eustis, the Secretary for War, and Mr. Robert Smith, Secretary of State. They have an interest in what we are about to discuss."

Lissette and I exchange greetings with the men in the formal manner repeatedly drummed into us at the Lawson Peabody School. We are invited to sit at the table and offered a drink. I settle for water, although I notice the two men with the President are drinking something stronger.

"I regret time is short, so I must get straight to the point. I … we … wish to know the current situation of the fighting in Spain and Portugal. We have reason to believe that you each have recent knowledge of events there that may be helpful."

He looks at the three of us as though he is challenging us to deny his comment. Louis speaks first.

"Mr. President. As you are aware, I have contacts in high circles of the French government and military. My latest information, barely a month old, is that France is at the point of crushing the remnants of the Spanish army. The last Spanish controlled cities of Valencia and Cádiz will by now have fallen to the might of the Grand Armée. The English army is cowering behind their defences around Lisbon and the so called Spanish partisans are all but destroyed."

"What you say, Monsieur de Chambleau, is consistent with what the French Ambassador in Washington has told me. And yet I have other reports saying the fighting continues all across Spain. Madame de Chambleau; your father is still French consul in New England. What has he told you?"

"My father knows many of the officials my husband refers to, but also has contacts among merchants and businessmen. He too believes France is at the point of a great victory and will soon be master of all of mainland Europe. He says the English will retreat to their island and shelter behind their navy. They will have no choice but to negotiate a peace on France's terms," says Lissette.

"And do you believe this information to be true?"

"I do not know, Mr. President. All I know is the merchants and businessmen are not as confident as the politicians and military. They point to the shortage of supplies and the constant drain of young men into the army. Many factories and farms are short-handed and the threat of starvation is never far away."

The President turns to me.

"Dolley tells me you were in Spain and Portugal until recently. What do you say?"

"Mr. President, I left Spain nearly a year ago, but was in Portugal until January of this year. I believe the French are over confident if they think Spain is crushed. They may be able to capture the Spanish cities, but the Spanish people will not rest until they are free of the French yoke. As fast as the French destroy one partisan band another emerges. As for the English army, it is true they are behind the defences around Lisbon. However, I have seen those defences. They are formidable. The English are simply waiting for the besieging French army to exhaust itself before mounting a counter attack."

"Nonsense," interrupts Louis. "What makes you think the English are capable of advancing in Portugal? This is idle rumour spread by English agents. And as for Spain, only two months ago one of the largest partisan bands under the command of the bandit Jacinta Cortés was wiped out. Those who didn't die in the battle were later executed. Cortés has met the fate all guerrillas will face. There has been no resurgence of banditry in the area since then."

"My information regarding the English comes from the lips of Viscount Wellington, commander of the combined British and Portuguese armies. I don't know when they will advance, but from my past experience working with him, he doesn't make hollow threats. As for Jacinta Cortés, I am pleased to inform you that reports of her demise are premature. She is alive and well and sitting in the next room."

That announcement causes a flurry of conversation. Some in astonishment and others in disbelief.

"You had best introduce us to her then," says the President. "That would remove any doubt about what you say."

I leave the room for a few moments and find Jacquelina waiting patiently near where we met before. I quickly explain what is going on and she agrees to come and meet the President. We re-enter the room.

"Mr. President, may I present Señorita Jacinta Raquel Maria Luisa Cortés de la Viña y Fernandez, otherwise known as Jacquelina."

Despite looking travel worn, Jacquelina shows her noble breeding. She manages to charm the men in the room even though she had no time to prepare. Even Louis seems taken with her, although he is careful how he shows it with Lissette in the room.

"So, Señorita, the French reports of your death are untrue? Are the rest of their reports lies as well?"

"I cannot speak for what is happening across Spain, but there are still many partisan bands throughout Spain. My own band was betrayed by an informer, and the French destroyed my camp. But most of my fighters had already left to battle the French further north, and only a handful remained in the camp when the French attacked. I had a lucky escape, but managed to make my way to the English lines near Lisbon. There I found the French army in Portugal has run out of supplies and are already preparing to retreat."

The three politicians ask a few more detailed questions before deciding they have heard enough. The interview is ended with a polite but formal 'thank you', and Jacquelina, Lissette, Louis and I leave the room. As we depart I take the opportunity to introduce Jacquelina to Lissette and Louis and suggest the four of us stop at a nearby café and have a coffee.


	14. Chapter 14

Part 14: Quincy

Lissette, Louis, Jacquelina and I find a table at a nearby café.

"Have you any idea what that meeting was about?" asks Lissette.

"Not really. But as the Secretary for War and the Secretary of State were there, it seems likely the President is thinking about involving America directly in the European War. Presumably on the side of France," I reply.

"Well that wouldn't surprise me. France and America are both countries that believe in freedom and equality," says Louis in rather superior tone.

"What freedom and equality has France brought to Spain?" asks Jacquelina with remarkable restraint. Had we been in Spain her knife would probably have been at Louis' throat by now.

"France has done Spain a great service. Did we not overthrow the hated government of First Minister Godoy? Have we not tried to restore order when Spain collapsed into anarchy? Doesn't the French army protect law abiding Spanish citizens?" persists Louis.

"Pah! Godoy is living a life of luxury in Marseilles thanks to the French. Had you allowed King Fernando to take his rightful place on the throne of Spain, then all might have been well. But instead we have Napoleon's brother as king. As for protecting law abiding citizens, tell that to my parents and sister; murdered in cold blood by French troops. And I know only too well how the French officers treat innocent Spanish girls. Not just me, but hundreds like me. There will be no peace until Spain is free of the French," says Jacquelina is a calm but deceptive tone.

I recognise the danger signs in Jacquelina's mood and here is not the place for a brawl. Lissette senses the warning signs and we steer the conversation into safer waters. Louis seems oblivious to Jacquelina's ire, probably because she is outwardly being charming and polite. I just hope he isn't planning on walking down any dark alleys at night any time soon.

Even if I say so myself, Lissette and I manage the rest of the conversation magnificently. Mistress Pimm would be delighted her teaching has paid such handsome dividends. No raised voices; no unseemly fight; nothing to disturb the peace and tranquillity of the other patrons. Even so, it is a challenge for both of us.

Fortunately, just when I feared Lissette and I might still fail in our task, Helen enters the café. I remember Lissette said she was due to meet Helen earlier, but Helen was busy. I look up at Helen and am amazed with what I see. The happy and contented look on her face is like a cat who has landed in a bucket full of cream.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Helen says to Lissette, "May I join you now?"

"That's alright. Yes. Please join us," smiles Lissette. "You won't know Jacquelina here. Jacquelina, this is Helen Cartwright. Helen may I introduce Jacquelina Cortés."

"How do you do? … Oh! We meet again! I didn't get your name when we met last night."

"I am well, thank you. I am pleased to see you are looking so much better."

"Yes. Much better, thank you. Your advice was most valuable."

I look at Jacquelina and Helen, trying to work out what this all means. I thought Jacquelina said she had only just arrived in America, so when did she meet Helen? I am determined to find out more, but not with Louis present. A short while later Jacquelina hints she and I should be on our way. She clearly wants to talk with me alone, and I likewise have many questions of her. We find an opportune moment to say our farewells and Jacquelina and I take a stroll along the cliff tops.

"I'm so glad you are safe and well. There were reports you had been killed," I say when we are alone.

"I too am glad those reports are untrue. But I am extremely lucky they are false. My friends warned me that we had an unidentified traitor in the camp weeks before we were betrayed. Too many of our raids were unsuccessful for it to be pure chance. We tried to find the traitor, and narrowed it down to someone in a group of twenty men.

"I decided to send the those of my men willing to leave to fight in northern Spain. The partisans in Galicia and Asturias are much more numerous and have ready access to arms and supplies from the English navy. In central Spain we had to rely on captured French weapons and the generosity of the Spanish people. My friends advised me to leave Spain for a while before re-emerging in another part of Spain.

"The traitor moved too soon for us, and before we knew it we had over a thousand French soldiers surrounding our camp. There were about forty of us, mainly old men, women and a few children. The French attacked without any offer for us to surrender and we all fled as best we could. Pepita, a young woman about my age and height, was mortally wounded in the attack. Unable to go any further she suggested I leave her some of my possessions and she would pretend she was I. Although I hesitated to take Pepita up on the offer, she pleaded to make her death worthwhile, and so I agreed.

"I eventually escaped by hiding in a tree for three days. After that I made my way west on the long road to Portugal. It was on that journey that I learned I was the only survivor of those with me when the camp was attacked. The few who had been captured had been executed a few days later. Pepita had been among those captured but had died before the executioner could take her. It seems her ruse had been successful and the French believed I was dead.

"But what followed is an abomination. Rather than give her a burial, her body was locked in a small medieval cage and placed on a stake outside the city. A warning to others of the penalty for fighting against the French. Such a grotesque practise hasn't been tolerated in Spain for over a hundred years."

"If the French believe you are dead, then I have done you a disservice by presenting you to the President. I fear news of your arrival here won't be a secret for long."

"That doesn't matter. I didn't intend to stay out of sight for long in any case. When the French find out I'm alive then perhaps Pepita will be permitted a decent Christian burial."

"I hope so too. Now, tell me how you met Helen ..."


	15. Chapter 15

Part 15: Quincy

I have a few hours to spare before afternoon tea with Dolley, Amy, Rose, and Elspeth, so I help Jacquelina to settle in to her room at Dovecote. As soon as Amy learnt Jacquelina was in Quincy, she immediately invited her to stay at Dovecote until after the wedding.

"Are these all your possessions?" I ask, looking at the small pack Jacquelina has with her.

"Most of my luggage will be unloaded at Boston. My travelling companions will look after it until I can collect it. I transferred from the ship to a fishing boat out in the bay and landed at Quincy. I didn't want the group meeting my companions in Boston to see me with them."

"So you visit isn't just a social call then?"

"For me it is, but not for my companions. When I met your Jaimy in Lisbon and heard you were in Boston, I took the opportunity to join them on the journey from Lisbon. Oh, Jaimy sends his regards by the way. I have a letter for you from him, but it's with my luggage in Boston. I didn't expect to find you so soon."

I remember Jaimy saying he was due to stop in Lisbon on his journey south, but he should have passed through there several weeks before Jacquelina met him. Perhaps he's received a change in his orders. I quiz Jacquelina but, as I expected, she doesn't know why Jaimy was still in Lisbon. A navy officer on duty only reveals his orders to others if it is necessary to do so in order to carry out those orders.

I invite Jacquelina to join me for afternoon tea with my friends, but she declines. With only a few hours sleep last night, she says she would be poor company and prefers to have a nap. We arrange to have dinner together here at Dovecote.

I return to Quincy in time to meet Dolley, Amy, Rose and Elspeth. We settle down for an enjoyable hour and a half catching up on each others news. It was when our meeting was ending that Dolley suddenly made a curious observation.

"Funny how we escaped the _Bloodhound_ and avoided being sold to strange men, only to have our fathers do exactly the same thing to us here in Boston," says Dolley.

Amy and I looked perplexed but Rose and Elspeth nod in agreement.

"What do you mean?" I ask Dolley.

"You never met my first husband, John Todd. He was a young lawyer eager to get ahead in life. My father knew the family and thought highly of them. Before I knew it John and I were being thrown together at every gathering, all part of my father's plans to marry me off to John. And John was just as eager. My sizeable dowry would help boost his career. I didn't dare go against my father's plans and meekly agreed. Within a matter of months John and I were married and not long after I was pregnant. And then the smallpox epidemic struck and took John's life. He didn't live long enough to see his son born."

"My father also had plans to marry me off to a man of his choice. But I refused and as a result was banished to live with my aunt in Albany," adds Rose. "I can only return to my father's house if I agree to his choice of husband. I haven't seen my parents and brother for nearly two years, and I don't know if I ever will."

"My tale is much the same. You've met Wilbur. He can charm the hardest of people. My father fell for his patter the moment they met. Within weeks he'd promised Wilbur my hand in marriage. He never once asked how I felt. All he was concerned about was finding a socially acceptable man to marry me and negotiating the size of my dowry. He thinks he got a good deal, but Wilbur won hands down. I'm sorry to say Wilbur is not always truthful. Now I'm trapped and little more than Wilbur's slave," says Elspeth.

"You're his wife, not his slave, Elspeth!" exclaims Amy.

"No, not is wife. He … he …" stutters Elspeth, fighting a losing battle against tears.

"You are among friends, Elspeth," I say as she regains some control over her emotions. "We will help you if we can. What do you mean, you are not Wilbur's wife?"

"He was already married when he married me. I found out a few weeks later when he failed to return home for several days. At first he said it was business that kept him away, but I followed him once and saw him with his wife. Since then he regularly spends time with each of us."

"But how do you know this other woman is his wife?"

"Wilbur told me. He even boasted about it. He told me if I wanted to keep my reputation, I should keep quiet and do as I'm told. I tried to tell my father, but Wilbur simply told him I was imagining things and hadn't been well. My father believed Wilbur and simply wouldn't listen to me. I'm trapped. I can't even demand he supports me as his wife. I'm just his kept woman and have to make do with the pittance he gives me."

"Are you certain this other woman is his wife?"

"Yes. I told you Wilbur said so."

"Hmm. But you also said Wilbur is not always truthful. He may be lying so he can avoid giving you a proper allowance."

"But how can I find out. And what good would it do anyway?"

A plan starts to hatch in my head. I need to work fast if I am to have everything ready for my meeting with Wilbur tomorrow.

"Elspeth, are you free tomorrow afternoon?"

Elspeth nods.

"I'd like you to come with me to Boston. I'll meet you here at noon.

Elspeth seems much happier, if a little puzzled by my invitation. At the moment I don't know if I can help her but I'm determined to try.


	16. Chapter 16

Part 16: Dovecote

Dovecote is much quieter tonight. Only Rebecca, Harry, Katy, Jacquelina and I remain as guests. And Nathaniel, of course. Despite his size Nathaniel soon has everyone running around and fussing over him.

Jacquelina is much better for her rest and entertains us all at dinner with tales of her adventures. They are watered down versions that omit many of the horrors of war she and I had witnessed in Spain. I take the opportunity to ask what she intends to do now she is in America. Her reply nearly causes me to fall off my chair.

"I have a cousin who lives in Florida. I shall go visit her for a while until my baby is born. As soon as I can arrange for my baby's care, I shall return to Spain. It will be a long war and I have sworn to fight until the French leave Spain. In the meantime I shall raise money in America for the Spanish cause."

"Congratulations Jacquelina. I had no idea you were expecting a child. … Um … Will the father be joining you?"

"Richard? No. He's not aware I'm pregnant yet. He was sent on a secret mission by Viscount Wellington before I knew and my camp was raided by the French before he could return. I left him a letter in Lisbon which Viscount Wellington promised he would get to Richard one way or another."

"Well I can arrange passage to Florida for you on the _Nancy B Alsop_. She's due to dock in Boston in about eight days before returning to the Caribbean. But you will need a travelling companion. A well brought up young lady doesn't travel alone in America. I'd come with you myself, but Ezra will skin me alive if I try to leave Boston before attending to all the paperwork he has waiting for me. He's even arranged for his assistant to make sure I comply while Ezra is on his honeymoon."

"A companion would be good cover. Can you recommend someone. She'll need to be able to take care of herself if it comes to a fight. The French would still offer a good reward to any bounty hunter who decides to try his luck."

"How about Katy here. She's a crack shot with musket and bow, and can handle a knife in a close fight. And she's looking for a few months work."

Jacquelina looks at Katy as if trying to judge whether I exaggerated Katy's abilities. For effect Katy lifts the hem of her skirt to reveal the large knife she has hidden in her stockings. Jacquelina is satisfied.

"Are you willing to accompany me to Florida and be my companion until my baby is born, Katy?"

"Yes, as long as I can bring Nathaniel. I ain't leaving him behind," Katy says defensively.

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Quincy

Next morning I meet Tom and Helen at the inn they are staying at in Quincy. Whatever was troubling Helen before has obviously been solved. She is looking positively radiant and there is no trace of the haunted look she carried before. I suspect Jacquelina had something to do with this remarkable transformation, although I could only prize the sketchiest of detail when I asked Jacquelina yesterday. Still, if whatever she said or did to Helen has helped, then I am content to leave the matter alone.

"I understand you build boats, Tom. Boats powered by a steam engine. I'd love to hear more," I ask after we have been talking for a while.

I have seen a steam engine in England. A huge piece of machinery used for pumping water out of a coal mine. I can't imagine how something so large and heavy could possibly fit in a boat, let alone make it move.

"Yes. Just one steam boat at the moment. My family has built river craft for several generations. Moving a laden boat on a river is always problematic. Going down river is easy as the current helps you. But coming back against the flow is a different matter. Teams of horses can pull a boat if the current is weak and the riverbank suitable, but on many of our rivers the current is too strong or the riverbanks too high or uneven."

I recall my own experience travelling down the Mississippi on the _Belle of the Golden West_ and agree with Tom's statement.

"So you have found a way to move a boat upstream using a steam engine?" I ask.

"Yes. In theory. We purchased a small high pressure steam engine from Scotland and are experimenting with it on a river not far from here. Helen deserves most of the credit for our success so far. She is quite an engineer," replies Tom. Helen blushes.

I ignore Helen's discomfort at Tom's praise, knowing full well she probably deserves every bit of his compliment. I sense a business opportunity in the making.

"How soon will you have it working?" I ask.

"Not for some time, I'm afraid," replies Helen. "Tom's father gave us a small grant to start the project, but the money is nearly all spent now. We will soon have to stop until Tom and I can afford to invest our own money into further work."

"I might be able to offer you a solution. Faber Shipping may be willing to sponsor further development. If you are interested and can arrange a demonstration for Ezra and I of what you have done so far we can then discuss a deal."

Tom and Helen look excitedly at each other and agree to arrange a demonstration for us as soon as Ezra returns from his honeymoon.

It is almost noon and I say farewell to Tom and Helen. I find Elspeth waiting patiently for me as arranged. Jacquelina is joining us on the journey as she wishes to retrieve her luggage.

"Hello Elspeth. I'm pleased you could make it. I hope there was no problem with Wilbur."

"I haven't seen him since the reunion. He's probably staying with his wife," she says dejectedly.


	17. Chapter 17

Part 17: Boston

We arrive in Boston in plenty of time for my meeting with Ezra. Jacquelina parts company with us after arranging to meet Elspeth and I here at six o'clock. It means a late arrival back at Dovecote, but it saves having to spend a night in Boston with an early start in the morning.

Ezra is waiting for us with a mountain of official looking documents on his desk.

"Are those for me?" I ask, suspecting the worst.

"Yes, and there's more in the next room. Good afternoon, Mrs. Parkinson. I didn't realise you would be here," says Ezra, eyeing Elspeth suspiciously.

"I have asked Elspeth to join me as I believe she has been wronged by Wilbur Parkinson and may be helpful in my plan."

I explain what Elspeth has told me and what I intend to do. To Ezra's credit he takes it all in his stride, and is able to verify one or two of my assumptions about Wilbur. Ezra has not been idle since the night of the reunion and has found out a few interesting facts. At the appointed time there is knock on Ezra's door and his clerk announces Wilbur Parkinson has arrived.

"Good afternoon. You are incredibly lucky. The deal I spoke to you about the other night is still open, but another party may make an offer at any moment. Now if … Elspeth! What are you doing here?" says Wilbur, as he is thrown off his well prepared salesman's pitch.

"Elspeth has made this sworn affidavit that you are a bigamist, Mr. Parkinson," I say, pointing to one of Ezra's official looking documents sat on his desk. The fact Elspeth has not done so and the document I point to is a Bill of Lading for the shipment of 50 tons of molasses is irrelevant.

"That's a lie. She's delusional. Come Elspeth, I'll find you a doctor so he can cure you of this ridiculous fantasy."

Fortunately Elspeth finds the courage to stand her ground. Had she given in, my plan would be ruined. Ezra takes his cue to play his part in this drama.

"Indeed, Mr. Parkinson. I have good reason to believe Elspeth is only one of several unfortunate women to have walked up the aisle with you. I believe a judge would take a very dim view of your behaviour and a long stint in prison would follow."

Although Ezra is only guessing his accusation clearly strikes home. Wilbur suddenly looks like a frightened rabbit, and edges towards the door. We had anticipated this and Ezra's well built assistant blocks the door.

"Not so fast, Mr. Parkinson. I have a proposal to make," I say before he does something rash.

Wilbur tries to wrestle with Ezra's assistant. He finally realises he can't get out the door and notices the window is barred. Finally he stops and listens.

"While sending you to jail would be very satisfying, it does nothing to help Elspeth or any of your other 'wives'. So I have a proposal. You can of course refuse, and Ezra will happily summon a constable," I say, indicating we should all sit down to discuss this like adults.

"Now, Wilbur. While your little scam may be legal and plays on the greed of others, I take exception when it affects my friends. So what you are about to do is pay each of your wives the sum of $10,000. I would also regard it as a personal favour if your would include Miss Ruth Alden in this display of generosity. Then you shall book passage on the _Nancy B Alsop_ when she next returns to the Carribean. On that voyage an unfortunate accident will befall Mr. Wilbur Parkinson and he will be swept overboard and lost at sea."

Wilbur looks as though he is about to raise several objections to this plan, so I press on before he can voice them.

"However, your tragic death will be a ruse. Each of your unfortunate widows will mourn the loss of her husband and move on with her life with reputation intact and some money in the bank. You, however, will find passage to Rangoon in Burma. There you will present the letter of introduction I shall give you to my good friend Chopstick Charlie. He has use for a person with your talents and I think you will find it very profitable. However, I caution you. Don't try to cheat Charlie or he'll send you back to America … one piece at a time. And don't try to disappear on your way to Burma. If I find you haven't arrived, then I will hunt you down."

I wait for Wilbur's response. He doesn't take long.

"I can't possibly find $60,000 in such a short time. I can only raise $2,000 each."

"Oh, that's a shame. Ezra, is that Constable Wiggins I can see at the top of the street?"

"No! Wait. Alright, $5,000 each."

"$8,000 each or you can say hello to Constable Wiggins."

The deal is struck and Wilbur is given until tomorrow noon to deposit $48,000 with Ezra, together with the names and addresses of the unknown beneficiaries. He could, of course, simply disappear, but he's smart enough to know it will be relatively easy for us to have the law after him. And if some of his former investors find out about his scam they may be eager to deliver justice in a more direct way.

Wilbur leaves and Ezra arranges for his assistant to escort Elspeth on a shopping trip around Boston while Ezra and I discuss business. We settle down to go through the paperwork.

Although I knew my shipping business was doing alright, I hadn't realised how well Ezra and John Higgins had done in managing my affairs these last three years. Much to Ezra's relief I quickly understand the two important things I need to decide.

Firstly, I need to decide what to do with the large sum of money Faber Shipping has accumulated so far. Even after the regular and generous payments to the Home for Little Wanderers in London, the profits are large. I'm a very wealthy lady.

Secondly, I need to make provision for control of Faber Shipping when Jaimy and I marry. Under English and American law, all my possessions become his when we are married. As much as I love Jaimy, I'm not certain I want to hand over total control. Although Jaimy seems to have recovered from the affliction that ailed him until a year ago, I am always worried he may have a relapse. And then there's his mother. The old dragon finally removed her objection to Jaimy and I being married. She didn't have much choice once I'd been admitted to the social circles of royalty, but she insisted he serve his tour of duty in the Indian Ocean first. I know she will interfere once Jaimy is in control of Faber Shipping.

I promise Ezra I will let him know what I've decided when he returns from his honeymoon. In the meantime I will go through all the remaining paperwork with Ezra's assistant.

I'm a few minutes late arriving at our meeting place and find the coach waiting, with Elspeth and Jacquelina sitting patiently for my arrival.


	18. Chapter 18

Part 18:

Jacquelina hands me the letter she was carrying from Jaimy as soon as the coach sets off for Dovecote. Manners dictate I wait until I'm alone before reading it, but both Jacquelina and Elspeth know I'm too excited to wait. Jacquelina tells me to read it now and within seconds the seal is broken.

_Commander James Fletcher_

_On board HMS Valiant_

_Lisbon, Portugal_

_My Dearest Jacky,_

_I write this letter in haste and I regret it must be short. I hadn't expected the good fortune to meet Jacquelina earlier today. She has promised to personally deliver this letter into your hands. I am well and think of you all the time. That last day together will always be etched in my heart. _

_When we arrived in Lisbon I found a change of orders waiting for me. It has meant a delay here in Lisbon, but we shall be departing in a few days. I cannot disclose too many details, other than to say the_ Valiant _is no longer bound for its original destination. The French have recently taken delivery of two new American built 40 gun frigates which are now somewhere in the Atlantic. I am ordered, in the company of other English ships, to sink or capture them. If we succeed then there is a chance of good prize money and possible promotion to post-captain._

I put down the letter, suddenly very worried about Jaimy's safety. The _Valiant_ is a 16 gun sloop-of-war and no match for one, let alone two, 40 gun frigates. Particularly the new American designed ships which are much faster and stronger than the ageing ships of the Royal Navy. That wouldn't normally be a problem if larger ships are in the squadron and the _Valiant_'s role confined to scouting. But Jaimy mentions the chance for good prize money and promotion. That implies the squadron he sails with is small and the _Valiant_ will be required to enter battle against much larger ships. I recall how the _Wolverine_ was smashed to matchwood by the ships-of-the-line at Trafalgar.

_I know this news may cause you some concern. But please don't worry about me. I have faced similar dangers before, and here is a chance to make my reputation. Once I make post-captain I can retire with a pension and we can be married. Please by happy for me._

_All my love,_

_Jaimy_

A whole range of emotions sweep through me as I put the letter down. 'Don't worry about me' … of course I worry about you! 'Make my reputation' … for whose benefit? … not mine, or yours. You've been exonerated from those falsehoods told by Bliffil and Flashby. 'Retire with a pension' … we have ample money without a pension. Or are you saying only money you have earned is good enough? Grrr!

"Men!" I say in frustration.

"Bad news?" asks Jacquelina.

"He is going to be risking his life trying to prove something that I don't believe needs proving."

"Ah, but in times of war all warriors feel the need to continually prove their bravery. It is like a drug. Once you are addicted you cannot stop. Many of those who have joined my partisans have been this way. Women as well as men. I'm the same. You as well," says Jacquelina.

I'm mollified by her comment, but not entirely happy. Anyway, what can I do about it. If nothing else it confirms that I cannot be the sort of wife who stands quietly on the dockside as her man goes off to sea.

I sit back and relax as we journey to Dovecote. Elspeth is not very talkative other than to express her thanks for my help this afternoon. I suggest she waits until Wilbur carries out his side of the deal before thanking me. Any number of things could go wrong and I just hope Wilbur honours our agreement and goes along with my plan.

We arrive at Dovecote having missed dinner but in time for a light supper. Feeling tired after such a busy day I retire to bed after supper and am asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean

For 10 hours we have been chasing the two French frigates. The _Valiant_ can easily match their speed and we've managed to keep the French in sight about eight miles ahead of us. However the _Sirius_ and _Benbow_ are gradually falling behind in the chase. So far the French dare not turn and engage the _Valiant_ as the two frigates behind us will have time to catch up and enter the battle.

But dusk is not far away and by dawn the gap between the _Valiant_ and the two English frigates following us will have widened enough for the French to risk attacking the _Valiant_. If they can disable or sink us before the _Sirius_ and _Benbow_ can engage, then the odds will favour the heavier French ships. Our only advantage lies in using all three English ships together against the two of them.

"Captain Fletcher. Sir. There's a signal from the flagship" says seaman Harper.

The signals officer, Midshipman Barlow, interprets the signal. "Maintain pursuit during the night but do not engage."

"Acknowledge the signal," I order. It was an unnecessary order from Captain Padget since standing instructions require such a course of action in the absence of any other order. But old "Pudgy" is the sort of man who likes to be in firm control. Having the _Benbow_ and _Valiant_ under his orders is his first opportunity to command a squadron.

As dusk approaches I order extra lookouts to be posted. I don't want to lose the French during the night, nor do I want them to turn and attack us.

"No lights except the one on our stern to help the squadron follow us. No sound to give us away. Pass the word to all crew."

Darkness approaches. There is only a quarter moon and plenty of cloud. Keeping station on the French is going to be difficult. It is best I get some sleep now and take the early watch.

"I'm going below for some sleep. The ship is yours. Wake me in two hours, or sooner if there are developments," I say to my second in command, Lieutenant Fellows.


	19. Chapter 19

Part 19: Dovecote

Tomorrow is Amy's big day. Which means today is full of all the last minute preparations. For Rebecca and I, that includes the final adjustments to our bridesmaids' dresses. Rebecca's fits perfectly, but mine needs a small adjustment. All the fine food I've been eating this last week has left my dress feeling a bit tight. I make a mental note to do more exercise as soon as the wedding is over or Jaimy won't recognise me when we are reunited.

With Jacquelina, Katy and Elspeth all helping with the work we manage to finish by mid-afternoon. Amy joins us and the six of us settle down for an afternoon tea. While we are enjoying our tea a rider comes up the house. A few minutes later a servant approaches with two letters, one for me and one for Elspeth.

"It seems Wilbur has accepted our offer," I say as I read my letter.

I'm careful not to say too much in front of the others. The fewer people who know about my plan the better. Elspeth opens her letter and, understanding my caution, nods in agreement. She can't suppress a smile and a happy sigh. I will need to take Jacquelina into my confidence later as she will be travelling with Wilbur on board the _Nancy B Alsop_. I'll leave it up to her to decide whether to tell Katy. Amy, of course, knows nothing, and since I don't want to read about this little escapade in some future novel, I won't be able to tell her.

Amy is starting to get nervous about tomorrow. We all do our bit to keep her calm. At some point someone suggests we each tell a story about what the man we love is doing right now. We draw lots to see who goes first and it is Amy who gets first turn. She weaves a pleasant if somewhat predictable story about Ezra giving instructions to his assistant for while he is away. I can well imagine many of those instructions involve making sure I complete all the paperwork.

Jacquelina spins a tale about how Richard Allen is searching for her and in doing so unmasks the traitor who betrayed her. Then it's my turn. I try to image what Jaimy is doing right now.

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean

Dawn brings a mixture of good and bad news. The good news is the two French frigates are still in sight about 8 miles ahead of us. The wind changed direction and the clouds cleared early in the night so there was enough moonlight for us to keep their sails in view. The bad news is the _Sirius_ is far behind us and the _Benbow_ trailing even farther. It is almost certain the _Sirius_ and the two French frigates can no longer see each other directly.

The even worse news is the two French frigates are now sailing towards us. They must have quickly changed course in the half-light of dawn and now we suddenly find them bearing down on us at full speed.

"Three points to larboard!" I order.

I decide not to reverse course and try to lead the French frigates onto the _Sirius_ and _Benbow_. With the wind in the current quarter the French would have the advantage of the wind direction in any engagement that followed. I realise that the wind change was just what the French were waiting for before entering battle.

The French now have two choices. They either turn to follow the _Valiant_ or ignore us and attack the _Sirius_ and _Benbow_. But to push on against the two English frigates leaves the _Valiant_ unchallenged. With a further change of course I could bring the _Valiant_ onto their other side and tip the balance back in our favour. As I feared, they turn towards the _Valiant_, opting for a smaller but more certain prize. By now they are less than two miles away, but with all our sails set we should be able to at least keep ahead of them.

It's a furious chase. The speed of these American built frigates is impressive. One false move on my part and they will be upon us. Four hours later the _Sirius_ drops below the horizon, unable to match our speed. We are alone against the French. The wind shifts direction a little and I order a slight change in course to keep up our speed. Unfortunately this means the unsighted _Sirius_ may keep to our original course and we will be on diverging courses. Any hope of rescue from the _Sirius_ or _Benbow_ has been lost.

The crew of the _Valiant_ settle in to a routine for a very long chase. There is plenty of ocean before us and the chase will only end when either the French captains or I make a mistake. However, the possible cause of a mistake arrives sooner than anyone expected. Ahead of us and sailing on a converging course is another ship; a large one, and Spanish by the shape of her rigging. She's not particularly fast but I can't risk changing course to avoid her. The French would pounce the minute our speed dropped.

As we draw closer I recognise her as the _Santiago_, an 84 gun ship-of-the-line I'd last seen in Cádiz. The _Santiago_ was one of many Spanish warships languishing in Cádiz without a crew. When I left there the provisional Spanish government was trying to conscript men to crew some of the warships. At the time they were having little success, but they must have later found enough for at least one ship.

The French must have seen the Spanish flag flying on the _Santiago_'s main mast. Even at this distance I can hear a cheer go up from the French crews. They seem to have no doubts they have met with an ally. The Spanish flag may well fly on her main mast, but I at least know that can mean anything. If the French have captured Cádiz then the _Santiago_ is probably crewed by men loyal to the French, otherwise their loyalty is to the provisional Spanish government.

I climb the rigging and take a closer look at the _Santiago_. There is the usual flurry of action on her deck as she prepares for action. But the number of men seems fewer than I expected. Perhaps she's not sailing with a full crew. I must make a decision soon. If she's in enemy hands then a broadside from her guns would make short work of the _Valiant_. But to turn away would bring the _Valiant_ in range of at least one French ship's guns. A lost mast at this stage would be fatal.

I decide to gamble everything on the _Santiago_ being on our side. If she's not, then all will be lost in any case, and if she is and we treat her as an enemy, then the French frigates will shoot us to pieces before the _Santiago_ can engage.

"Two points to starboard," I order a change in course.

We are now going to pass the _Santiago_ on a parallel course in opposite directions. Both the _Valiant_ and _Santiago_ have their guns manned and run out ready to fire. I hold my breath as we pass, waiting for any sign whether or not the Spanish will fire on us.


	20. Chapter 20

Part 20: Dovecote

Today is Amy and Ezra's big day. The ceremony will be at the local church in Quincy, followed by a reception at Dovecote. Jacquelina and Katy have gone on ahead to the church, while Rebecca and I wait patiently for Amy to come down. Colonel Trevelyne is waiting with us, but not nearly so patiently.

There is plenty of time and, anyway, it's fashionable for the bride to be a little late at the church. I am more concerned that Colonel Trevelyne is about to wear a hole in the carpet with all his pacing about. Fortunately Amy's appearance prevents that occurrence and she glides down the stairs with all the grace and charm years of training at the Lawson Peabody School has provided.

Her dress is magnificent, being a grander version of the dresses Rebecca and I wear. Some last minute adjustments and the four of us walk across to the coach awaiting us. The footmen assist us into the coach and then get up onto the platform at the rear of the coach designed for their use. At some prearranged signal the driver shakes the reigns and the six white horses break into a trot.

Amy sits quietly as we make the short journey to the church. She is nervous and taking deep breaths to steady herself. Colonel Trevelyne looks as though he's about to offer some "helpful" advice to his daughter and I decide to say something before he puts his foot in his mouth.

"Well, Amy. You can no longer say you aren't ready for that sort of thing," I say in a light tone.

"Oooh! What would Ezra do if you did say that?" adds Rebecca with a giggle.

It is Rebecca's mirth that breaks Amy's tension and she relaxes and smiles. The sort of look guaranteed to sweep Ezra of his feet and have him doting over her every whim. When I think back to the Amy I first met five years ago, I realise how she has matured into a beautiful and confident young woman. She's never completely lost the puppy fat that makes her figure rounder than many, but as Ezra once confided in me, he likes a woman with a bit of meat on her.

I look at Rebecca and note that she, like the other Bloodhound girls, has matured into a young woman. Some have had an easier ride into adulthood than others, but so far all have come though relatively unscathed. Those like Katy, Ruth and Elspeth may face difficult choices in the near future, but they seem capable of making those choices in the knowledge they have friends willing to help where they can.

As for me, I felt uncertain how I would be received when I arrived in Boston. Apart from a few letters, my friends had heard nothing from me in three years. And apart from the snippets of information from Joannie and a letter or two from Amy, I'd received precious little news about my friends. But my return was greeted with enthusiasm by all the Bloodhound girls and I soon felt at home. Of course I'd been in the newspapers a bit during those three years, usually reporting one misdemeanour or another.

Of course Amy has been the most eager of my friends for the details of my adventures. She makes no secret she wants to write more stories about me and I'm vain enough to encourage her. Rebecca has also shown an remarkable level of interest in my travels. At first I feared it was some form of hero worship and she had some romantic ideas about my trials and tribulations. It wasn't until I came across her sketching the other day that I realised she has become quite an artist and has been using my stories as settings for her artwork. I suddenly felt quite humbled when I saw her drawing based on my description of one of my adventures in Spain.

Our arrival at the church breaks me from my musing. We're only ten minutes late, just enough to make Ezra start to worry and appreciate Amy's arrival all the more. The church is packed with family, friends and neighbours and I don't have time to acknowledge more than a few on our walk down the aisle. Colonel Trevelyne deposits Amy at the altar as gracefully as a man more accustomed to handling horses can.

My eyes start to mist over as Amy and Ezra exchange vows. When will it be my turn I wonder. I would have married Jaimy at any time since our reunion at Talavera, but he insisted on getting his parents' … or more precisely, his mother's … blessing first. Finally she gave it, but with conditions. Conditions that are placing Jaimy in harms way and delaying our wedding by as much as two years. But I can wait. I will wait.

The announcement that Ezra and Amy are now husband and wife brings me back to the present. Applause and congratulations echo around me and I add my own to the lucky couple.

Outside the church the customary throwing of the bride's bouquet sees Rebecca in possession of the flowers. No surprises there; Harry and Rebecca's wedding can't be too far away even if no formal engagement has been announced yet.

Back to Dovecote for the reception. A grand affair worthy of one of Boston's foremost families. Before I realise it the newly-weds are departing for a brief honeymoon at a secret location further down the coast. At least Ezra believes it is a secret, but he really must be more careful what papers he leaves lying on his desk when I'm around. Not that I shall tell. They both deserve their few days of privacy.

The party goes on all afternoon and well into the evening. I get the chance to talk with all the Bloodhound girls attending and say farewell to each as the party gradually winds down. There are promises to meet at next year's reunion and all of us hope to be able to keep our promise. In reality I have no idea where I will be this time next year. I love Boston but will I grow restless? And what of Jaimy? He mentioned his orders had changed. Does this mean I shall see him sooner than I thought? I hope so.

By the time the last guest leaves I'm feeling quite exhausted. Katy has long since retired to bed and like me, Jacquelina and Rebecca both look ready for sleep. We say goodnight and head for our rooms.

I fall asleep with fond memories of the last time Jaimy and I were together. That special night four months ago which we spent in each others arms. The day we finally got the old dragon's blessing to marry. But it was also the day before Jaimy took command of his new ship as Master and Commander of the _Valiant_. 'Captain Fletcher' is how the young midshipman correctly addressed him as he boarded the jolly boat taking to the _Valiant_ moored in the Thames estuary. I haven't seen Jaimy since.

I wake early the following morning feeling a little unwell. I reprimand myself for too much partying and not enough exercise. I go down to breakfast and to my surprise it is Mrs. Trevelyne who is up before me.

"Good morning, Jacky. Will you join me for breakfast," she says.

I help myself to some bacon and eggs and join her at the table. I look at my breakfast and realise I don't feel all that hungry.

"You look a bit off colour, Jacky. Too much partying I suspect. Doctor Johnstone is calling by later this morning to give the Colonel his monthly check up. Perhaps he can prescribe a tonic for you," she says.


	21. Chapter 21

Part 21: Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean

As battles go this has been by far the most vicious I've ever fought. The fact that I and the majority of the _Valiant_'s crew are still alive is due to a mixture of good fortune and skilful sailing. Midshipman Barlow, the young officer in charge of the jolly boat which had rowed me out to the _Valiant_ four months ago, is the only uninjured officer. My arm is in a makeshift sling and I'm limping badly after a French cannonball ripped out the railing near to where I was standing, sending splinters everywhere. Neither I nor most of the _Valiant_'s crew are in a fit state to take on the French in hand to hand combat. But with only four serviceable cannon left and a single surviving mast to sail with, we may have no option.

Not that the other three ships are in any better state. My gamble with the allegiance of the _Santiago_ paid off. The French were caught unaware when the _Santiago_'s first broadside was aimed at the leading French frigate. Had the _Santiago_ been a British ship I feel certain her broadside would have delivered a crippling blow. But her under-strength and poorly trained crew wasted the opportunity and over half her shots missed the French ship. The French soon recovered from their surprise and were able to return fire before the _Santiago_ could fire a second salvo.

For half an hour the _Santiago_ and the two French frigates, the _Louisiana_ and the _Montreal_, traded broadsides. I had brought the _Valiant_ alongside the _Montreal_, sandwiching it between the _Santiago_ and us. The heavier guns of the _Santiago_ penetrated the thick sides of the frigates whereas the _Valiant_'s smaller guns seemed to do little damage. I soon realised the over-shooting Spanish guns were a greater risk to us than the French guns, and I ordered the _Valiant_ to disengage. I remembered the manoeuvre Jacky performed that saved the _Dolphin_ and I ordered a course to bring the _Valiant_ across the sterns of the French ships. We fired a rolling broadside into each frigate as we sailed across their sterns causing untold damage.

By the time the _Valiant_ could be turned for another pass, the three ships were entangled in broken masts and rigging. I noticed the French had started boarding the _Santiago_ and the outnumbered Spanish were in difficulty. I ordered a boarding party to get ready and we pulled alongside the _Louisiana_. Fortunately the French crew were too busy fighting the Spanish to notice us until it was too late. I led my crew across the French deck and onto the _Santiago_, but we were too late to do more than assist some of the Spanish crew retreat to the _Valiant_. The _Santiago_ soon fell into French hands, but not before a fire had broken out down below.

The French knew that if the _Santiago_ exploded it would take both frigates down with her, and all efforts were directed at dowsing the fire and clearing the entangling masts and rigging. Consequently the _Valiant_ was able to disengage from the _Louisiana_ without any damage. As soon as the _Valiant_ was ready I ordered another pass across the sterns of the ships. As we approached the _Montreal_ managed to untangle itself and turn slightly before we could fire. Rather than waste a broadside against the thick sides of the frigate, I ordered the guns to aim at her rudder. The rolling broadside was a success and at least two shots hit her rudder.

The _Louisiana_ was still entangled with the _Santiago_ and our broadside raked her stern for a second time. As we turned for another pass the _Louisiana_ managed to fire a broadside at the _Valiant_. Not all her guns fired, but enough to cause damage to the _Valiant_. This was followed a few seconds later by a salvo from the deck guns on the _Santiago_. Now in French hands and firing over the _Louisiana_'s broken masts, the _Santiago_'s broadside smashed into the _Valiant_ leaving us in our current state.

For 10 minutes the _Valiant_ veered away from the French ships as I and the other injured men were tended by the ship's surgeon. But as soon as my arm and leg were bandaged I resumed command and ordered a course towards the other ships.

It is slow work with only one mast. Before me lies three battered ships. The _Montreal_ is floating free but with no masts and a damaged rudder. I can see frantic efforts on board as her crew try to repair the rudder and rig a jury mast. It will take the crew several hours before they will be able to get her underway.

Our biggest threat is the _Santiago_ which has most of her guns, her foremast and half her mainmast intact. The only reason she is not moving is because the tangled mass of rigging is locking her to the mast-less _Louisiana_. I can see the French crew making an effort to free her, but there are too few of them to make fast progress.

I order the four serviceable cannon to the same side of the ship and set a course to attack the undefended sterns of the two entangled ships. It's an aggressive move designed more to boost the morale of the _Valiant_'s tired crew than with the expectation of delivering a winning blow. Our four-gun broadsides are on target and we circle for another pass. It is on our third pass that the lookout sees the _Sirius_ and _Benbow_ sailing to join the battle. They are still a good half hour's sailing time away but even at this distance I can see their battle flags flying.

The sight of the two English frigates heartens the crew of the _Valiant_ while having the reverse effect on the French. Minutes later all three French ships lower their colours and surrender. I order the jolly boat prepared so I can go and accept the French surrender before the _Sirius_ and _Benbow_ reach us. Doing so means all three ships are prizes of the _Valiant_ and even if the prize money must be shared with the crews of the other English ships, the battle honours belong to the crew of the _Valiant_.

Dovecote

An hour or so later I'm feeling a lot better and manage a late breakfast. News arrives that the _Nancy B Alsop_ docked in Boston yesterday and will be ready to depart for Florida and the Caribbean in about a week. I find Jacquelina and Katy and let them know so they can prepare for their voyage to Florida. After lunch I will go into Quincy to collect Elspeth and we shall travel to Boston to check that Wilbur has deposited the promised money at Ezra's office. Once I'm satisfied Wilbur is carrying out his side of the bargain I will let Jacquelina know of our little plan.

I'm sitting of the veranda with Jacquelina, enjoying the pleasant morning, when Mrs. Trevelyne comes looking for me.

"There you are, Jacky. Dr. Johnstone is here and he's agreed to prescribe something for whatever ails you."

"Oh! That's not really necessary. I feel fine now. I'm just a little tired, and, as you say, I've been partying rather a lot recently."

"Then there's nothing for you to worry about. Just let him check you over."

It seems easier to agree than argue with Mrs. Trevelyne and I go to my room to wait for the doctor. He soon joins me and gives me a thorough examination. He makes a lot of encouraging noises as he carries out his work.

"Well. As far as I can tell you are in perfect health. Couldn't be better given the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" I ask.


	22. Chapter 22

Part 22: Boston

Jacquelina, Katy and I spend the next week in Boston. Katy and Nathaniel stay with Annie and Davy Jones. Davy will be joining the _Nancy B Alsop_ on this voyage. He should return in plenty of time to be with Annie for the birth of their third child.

Jacquelina soon finds the companions who sailed with her from Lisbon. They are busy with some scheme to send American arms and supplies to the guerrillas in northern Spain. Given President Madison's thinly disguised sympathies for the French cause, the Spanish group's activities are kept clandestine.

As for me, I've spent most days working in Ezra's or the Faber Shipping offices dutifully doing all the paperwork I've been given. Finally I've attended to everything. Tom and Helen will receive a healthy investment from Faber Shipping to develop their steamboat.

As for control of Faber Shipping once Jaimy and I marry, Ezra has now transferred a portion of my assets to a new subsidiary company registered in the Portuguese colony on the Seychelles Islands. According to Seychelles customs and laws, only women can own assets in the Seychelles. So English and American law may say I must give everything I own to Jaimy on our marriage, but he can do nothing with my Seychelles assets without my consent. And those assets include the _Lorelei Lee_.

As the _Nancy B Alsop_ sails tomorrow, I've arranged to meet Jacquelina for one last afternoon together. This evening she, Katy and Nathaniel will board the _Nancy_. Wilbur Parkinson is already on board and Davy has instructions to make sure he stays there. Elspeth has returned to New Bedford, a much wealthier lady than when she left. She said a brief goodbye to Wilbur yesterday but decided against seeing him off.

It is a hot day and Jacquelina and I decide to stroll along the beach before meeting Katy at the Pig and Whistle.

"Have you finished your business here in Boston?" I ask.

"Yes. Pancho will take care of the details from here. By the time I return to Spain the partisans will be a much better fighting force and ready to take on the French in the towns and cities. No French garrison will be safe behind their defences."

"Let me know when you intend to return to Spain and I will arrange a ship for you. I'd like to come myself, but I think I may be busy here in Boston."

"Have you arranged a place to stay?"

"Yes, Amy and Ezra returned to Boston three days ago and they've invited me to stay with them at their new house here in Boston until Jaimy comes for me."

"But you don't know when that will be?"

"No. He could turn up next week, or it could be more than a year."

I refuse to acknowledge the possibility that Jaimy may never return to claim his bride. But I shall wait patiently until I have definite news.

We stroll along the waters edge with our shoes off. Jacquelina suddenly chuckles.

"Life's funny, don't you think?" says Jacquelina.

"In what way?"

I recall we have many similarities, but we are also opposites in some respects. Jacquelina was born to a wealthy family and for years lived a life of comfort and plenty, whereas I lived most of my childhood on the streets of London begging and stealing for my next meal. Now Jacquelina is just as at home sleeping in a ditch and scavenging for food, while I have acquired the taste for fine living and mixing in the social circles of emperors, kings, and presidents.

"I mean the two of us here on this beach. Both unmarried, barefoot and pregnant. You know, I still can't believe you didn't realise you were four months pregnant until Dr. Johnstone told you."

Fortunately I've recovered from that little bombshell. In truth I have worried a few times about the consequences of my last night with Jaimy. That wild carefree night during which neither of us thought about the next day. The day Jaimy would take command of his new ship.

It's not that I'm ignorant of the facts of life. Mrs. Roundtree gave me a sound education on that subject. It's just that with everything that has happened to me over the last few years, I've frequently skipped that-time-of-the-month a few times. But I suppose I was deluding myself. When it happened before I was a prisoner on a convict ship, or in a life threatening situation. That doesn't describe my life over the last six months.

"Well it's true. I didn't know I was pregnant, although looking back I should have guessed. I suppose I'll have to keep a low profile for a while. The good ladies of Boston will take great delight in bringing me down a peg or two. An unmarried mother isn't welcome in their hallowed circles."

"Ah, but only if you aren't married. That Spanish monk who performed a wedding ceremony for Richard and I, and you and Jaimy, gave us a marriage certificate each."

"Yes, that's true. But we knew the monk wasn't authorised to marry people. We only went through the ceremony to renew our commitment to each other. Our marriage certificates wouldn't stand up in a court of law."

"I know. But the ladies of Boston don't know that. Few people know the ring on your finger isn't a wedding band. All you need to do is occasionally refer to yourself as Mrs. Fletcher, and no one will question it."

"But what about Amy? She'll have all this in a book in no time."

"Then take her into your confidence and tell her you and Jaimy were married in Spain but must keep it secret because of his parents. Show her the certificate if you like. It looks authentic. Tell her not to write about it until you and Jaimy are reunited. By then it won't matter."

"Hmmm … perhaps you are right. And as soon as Jaimy returns we can be married officially. Still, I wish he would come sailing over the horizon to claim me soon."

"Well, you never know. Perhaps he's on that English ship arriving over there," says Jacquelina, pointing to a ship entering Boston harbour.

"Oh! My God! It's a British sloop-of-war. Could it be the _Valiant_?" I exclaim.

[The end]


End file.
